It is wonderful to see families with many children; and again wonderful to see young families just beginning. The German people are also beginning to see that, without children, those of us of European descent are doomed. With children, every moment is precious and our future held in our arms.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Posted by Laurel Loflund at 11:40 AM
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
I wrote this poem a couple of years ago. It enjoyed some minor exposure around the internet, but the site that housed it is no more. So I decided to post it here, where it will have more of a permanent home.
The Last White Man
The shadows loom long of an evening
Blue-tinged with twilight’s deep shade
The glory of sunset is fading
Gold fingers of light flick the glade.
Black crows to their shelter go soaring
Their noisy croaks piercing the sky
In the glade a white man is waiting
For the last crystal sunbeam to die.
He has not a brother to talk to
Or sister to stand by his side
There never were many, indeed, just a few–
Those few, save for him, now have died.
He raises his hand to the sunset,
A futile salute indeed
From one dying thing to another, regret;
To the dark, all that’s light must recede.
Deep voices sound out of the bushes
The hunters come seeking their prey.
Choking and clutching, night pushes
Beneath the horizon the day.
The shadows loom long of a dawning
Gold-tinged with the coming of day
Black crows to their feast, beaks a-yawning,
Peck the last of the pale flesh away.
© 2006 Laurel Loflund