Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Untitled essay, 1970
Thru the forest paths our trails were crossed by
which before were traveled by wild animals and
Those trails have sprung into ribbons of concrete
reaching from ocean to ocean,
villages have spawned cities of great sizes.
Where once were fields of grass or woods
cornfields came and went,
and now houses.
Houses, no woods as once I played in
or fields where my uncle rode horses.
No more are things as of the old days
of my boyhood,
even the place where I was born is gone.
Will all things change with time?
The Old Pine Tree
WL Trabue, July 1945
Come, Love, let us wander again, along
the Old Trail
Up the mountain trail as we did long years ago.
Beneath those long shadows of our youth and the
Old Pine Tree,
side by side as we did when we were younger.
Remember the parting, how sad it was to
You and I.
Our country called, the call I had to answer.
Come, Love, we must go again along
that Old Trail
to find the love we left there long ago.
I haved dreamed of this trail, at night
and feared I would never see it again.
Let me feel its bark again, it is still there!
The Two Hearts,
As ours, they have entwined over these missing years.