Louis Larsen worked as an English instructor for the majority of his adult life. In that time, he produced many works in both novels and poetry. Louis also worked as a ghost writer for many others, as well as newspapers throughout Utah. The works here represent those left to the family, both published and unpublished. Much of his work reflects a haunting feeling of loss, pain and betrayal. This comes from the loss of his son, Thomas Larsen, in World War II. Tom served with the 85th Mountain Infantry of the 10th Mountain Division, where he served with distinguished honor, and paid the ultimate price for his commitment. Tom lost his life on Riva Ridge, Mount Belvedere in February, 1945. This loss haunted Louis for the remainder of his life. Many of his poems reflect this pain and leave a legacy of the emotional priced paid in the wake of war.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Slain Hollyhock

In torn and tattered autumn frock,
There lingered one lone hollyhock,
Three wilted blooms on riven stalk.

About the yard it seemed to stare
While all the other flowres fair,
Looked scornfully from everywhere.

These other flowers bright and gay
Were in their festive fall array,
Dressed for the party, so to say.

I listened as there came to me,
Soft as the drone of honey bee,
A murmur of conspiracy.

A hateful wind had heard the call
And came across the garden wall
To plot the stately flower's fall.

Next morning when I made the round,
A waste of beauty there I found;
Slain hollyhock upon the ground.

(First published in Along the Lane: Dedicated to the memory of Thomas William Larsen, who lost his life in World War II)

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