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kurt-philip-behmPoems
If we were young men,   if we were strong If we had fresh words,   to add to our song If we were soldiers,   with war in our veins If we were poets,   our voices reclaimed If we were lovers,   of women that cried If we went wandering,   our heart’s reapplied If we were statesmen,   the world in our grasp If we were sailors,   the wind at our backs If we were farmers,   with meadows so green If we were actors,   on stages supreme If we were hunters,   new wolf on the prowl If we were dreamers,   all wishes allowed If we were young men,   still facing the sun But alas, we are old   —and darkness has come (Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 9:56 PM UTC
If
If we were young men,   if we were strong If we had fresh words,   to add to our song If we were soldiers,   with war in our veins If we were poets,   our voices reclaimed If we were lovers,   of women that cried If we went wandering,   our heart’s reapplied If we were statesmen,   the world in our grasp If we were sailors,   the wind at our backs If we were farmers,   with meadows so green If we were actors,   on stages supreme If we were hunters,   new wolf on the prowl If we were dreamers,   all wishes allowed If we were young men,   still facing the sun But alas, we are old   —and darkness has come (Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
kurt-philip-behm
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kurt-philip-behm
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 9:56 PM UTC
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