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 The works here represent those left to the family, both published and unpublished.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

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Errant Muse

I sit writing poetry
While she plays solitaire.
I do not see for dreaming
The lamplight on her hair.

My meter gets entangled;
She turns a lucky ace.
I cannot see for frowning
The smile upon her face.

My thought is slow and halting;
Her slender fingers run.
She mocks my heavy labor
With her nimble fun.

I rumple up the paper.
The Muse that never came
Is sitting at the table
To help her win a game.

(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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