Your weekly shot of prose and verse
Here's another weekly shot of prose and verse from The Press Writers Corner.
Send your submissions to Maureen Dolan, mdolan@cdapress.com.
We prefer email submissions, and we ask that you limit the length of your stories and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.
You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d'Alene, ID, 83814.
And now, we present more poems, stories and essays written by you, our readers.
•••
WE GET-HIS-WORTH ADDRESS
By John F. Austin, with apologies to A. Lincoln
Four score and seven years ago our grandmother brought forth on this continent a new creation, our Dad, conceived in Montana and dedicated to the proposition that all children are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great debate, testing whether that man's fortune, or any fortune, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that discussion. We have come to dedicate the occasion to that man, as a final testing place for he here who risked our inheritance so his family might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow our dad. This brave man, teaching calculus and physics to the living and the dead, who struggled with that, have consecrated him, far above our poor power to add or to subtract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what he taught so many. It is for us his children, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished mathematics that he taught us, and thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great guy remaining before us - that from this honored veteran we take increased devotion to that cause for which he'll give his last full treasure, with emotion - that we here highly resolve that his wealth shall not have been achieved in vain - that his family, under God, shall have a new birth on occasion - and that his children of our mother, by our mother, for our mother, shall not cherish his net worth.
Editor's note: John F. Austin lives near Harrison. He wrote this piece for his father, Gene C. Austin, of Hayden, whose 87th birthday is Monday. Austin's dad is a retired Air Force Major who then went on to teach math and calculus for many years in North Idaho.
SAFETY
Roses close their delicate petals at dusk,
Not likely for humanity to rely on such trust.
We latched our sturdy front door
for moonlight safety evening lore.
Shutting out our day filled sights
as nature clicked on reversing twilights.
Safety counters to devils-of-dark nights
faith only mind repose over imaginary frights.
Be reminded-also locking out fading beauty,
sights, sounds and scents of nature's duty.
Crescent moon braving the dimming horizon,
conveying it's forecasted timely duty risen.
Brightening beams lighting our chosen ways,
chasing memories of silvery shining sun rays.
Be forewarned-evil doers steal dreams,
likened to clouds devouring moon beams.
'Tis better to err on caution's vigilant side,
than chance the thievery sneaking tide.
A lazy element can't chance gainful working,
with a sure fire lucrative dope sale lurking.
Darkness conceals these illegal narcotic deals,
hallucinations bought with money for meals.
Will the moon hasten to its orbital rest?
dimming over an analgesic drug bust?
Does any element of our life exist,
mighty dollar controlled-many can't resist?
Roses close their delicate petals at dusk,
not likely for humanity to rely on such trust.
- Larry L. Laws, Dalton Gardens
VETERANS SET THE STANDARD
By Cheyenne Clifton, 16, Post Falls
All veterans should be honored not as one, but as a nation. If our veterans have the time and courage to stand up and defend our country for what is right, then we should too! I count on living every day, and I doubt that without our veterans we would be here in our spectacular country of America.
America's veterans should be honored for their pride, inspiration and wisdom. I have firsthand experience of knowing the life of a veteran. My dad is a veteran who fought in Vietnam, and I know several other people that are in the military. These brave veterans have all taught me many valuable lessons in life, and deserve America's honor. Veterans not only defend all of America and our honor, but they have to endure life-altering experiences themselves. Veterans had to look death in the face many times. These veterans have to witness deaths of strangers and of friends. At times, veterans have to witness innocent children and women being killed; they then have to live with the guilt of what they have experienced, while defending the rest of us. You could say that they totally sacrificed themselves. Veterans will never be the same people as they were before going into the service; their interactions with others will forever be affected. There really is no amount of money, no thanks that is grand enough to make up for all veterans do and for all they go through. The thing that we, as Americans, can do to show our gratitude is to rally behind them, support all their efforts, and offer them every bit of kindness we can. We should not have to know them personally to send them a card of encouragement or to send them a gift box.
All Americans should display our flags with pride and dignity, and do our best to do what is right. After all, veterans don't know you and I, and yet it is for you and I that they are willing to die. If we as American citizens, rallied behind one another the way men and women of the military did and still do, we would continue to have an amazing country.
The veterans have set the standard of honor, respect and pride. Let's give back by sharing in that. Let veterans be the No. 1 inspiration in our lives.
MEANING IT
"Hello, how are you?"
Countless times we all hear this greeting.
Meeting relatives, friends, acquaintances and strangers.
Hurrying by you before you reply.
"Fine. How are you? See you later."
People we may never see again or ones we see everyday.
As both parties deliver the same ritual greeting.
Lacking any warmth or feeling.
To the rare, honest reply of. "Not good. Terrible?"
Smiling, they say, "Oh, that's nice," rushing away.
Tragically, sadly, what a profound and bereaving loss!
In deep, true, lasting friendship and loving kindness.
The concern and human interest dying, wilting.
As the spark of life, innumerable hearts flicker.
Human reeds bent and bowed over, from the cold life.
People gossip and curse the living.
The same personality they praise after he dies.
Bringing to my mind an old song.
"Give me my flowers while I'm living.
Put the lilies in my hand.
Do no wait until I'm dead and buried.
And do not understand."
- Patsy Kurrelmeyer, Kellogg