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41913RE: Arlington West (Jim Lamoreux)

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  • wings081
    Nov 9, 2013

      Dear Jim

      Formatting fine. Great post for this time of the calendar. Flanders Poppies abound in UK for our friends who didn't return. Sorry about the Yahoo change of layout. I expect we'll get used to it eventually

      but it's nowhere near as easy as the original T2W  Good to welcome you back again old son.

      As always

      Wings.

      Note for any new members:

      Jim Lamoreux is an ex-vet of Nam who together with Carol Carpenter and myself wrote a book about

      wartime adventures in occupied France. A book which I had published, courtesy of one of UK's daily newspapers.It all started when a member wrote that they were suffering from writers cramp, a complaint which I said should never be admitted by serious pensmiths. I further challenged anyone to give me a word, sentence or phrase and I would write the first chapter of a short story for them. Carol accepted the challenge and posted me a short sentence from which I composed a chapter which was added to by Carol and then Jim asked if he could join in. Carol and I readily agreed and we took turns to write alternating chapters using the benefit of our personal experiences. The completed short story ended up with 38 chapters in 137 pages.

      If any member ever feels they are stuck for  literary direction, I offer the same challenge again.

      Wings.

       



      ---In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, <jlamoreux@...> wrote:

      This was done some time ago for Veteran’s Day. I want to see if the formatting holds in HTML.

       

      Arlington West


      It’s been a long time

      Since I stood on a shore somewhere

      And smelled the salt water

      While the wind whisked itself

      In a cool spray

      Across my skin.

       

      Suspended in the air

      A seagull marks the moment

      The sun rising under its white wings,

      Handling the currents

      Sustaining its effortless viewpoint.

       

      The seagull looks behind me

      Maybe fifty yards or so

      Where the sand is dotted with

      Carefully placed crosses.

       

      Behind me is a symbol of lives abruptly ended

      In front of me is the watery archetype

      From which all life rose.

      I am caught between

      Two inevitable, inescapable directions.

       

      Behind me

      America is finally allowed to mourn.

      It is allowed to voice its pain

      As well as its pride.

      It is allowed to support

      Without being labeled a cheerleader

      And dissent

      Without being labeled a fool.

       

      Mothers can come

      And tend to their son or daughter’s cross

      As they cared for them as children

      Wiping noses and tears

      Getting them dressed to go to school

      And ready to go to bed.

       

      No one says they are hurting the war effort.

      They are tending to their grief.

       

      Children can come here

      And wonder who the names were

      And no one chases them away

      As we have all been chased away

      From trying to understand

      Any of this

       

      The ground is decorated

      With flowers, letters, stuffed animals

      As if they all made their way alone

      To some western version of Mecca.

       

      People come

      To speak to the departed

      With their sorrow, tears,

      And steady leaf-fall of

      Colorful mementos

      Gathering in one sigh

      Of “I love you,” and “good-bye.”

       

      Let us all come as one America

      To Arlington West.

       

      Let us speak what is in our hearts

      And praise and question unmolested

      By those who think that wars

      Are not suffered by human beings

       

      Who feel loss

      And fear

      And helplessness,

      Hope,

      Courage,

      And pain,

       

      Human beings who must travel for miles

      Across a bitterly divided nation

      To lay a ribbon

       

      On a white cross

       

      Placed on a beach on the shores

      Of Santa Barbara, Santa Monica, Oceanside and―

       

      The world.

       

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