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 The works here represent those left to the family, both published and unpublished.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, October 26, 2014

Safari

Whistle up the morning, boy;
The dawn is pushing in;
The world is dangling every joy
A wastral traffics in.

Now what to do and whither go,
A tumult in the heart,
The wooded river there below,
The hills that stand apart.

Make haste, make haste--your nemesis
Is peering from the mow
And you will only dream of this
If summoned to the plow.

Whistle up the morning, flee,
Safari ends, ah soon--
When glitter of the sun will be
A pallor of the moon.
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