Poems by: David Louis Firestone Feinberg

AS STOLID SOLDIERS OFF TO WAR


As stolid soldiers off to war
March silently the years —
Forever ready to record
The regimen of tears.

And who can call them from their fight?
And who can send them back?
Not one will pale before his plight —
Nor halt his vain attack.


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I WRITE TO YOU MY OLDEST FRIEND
I write to You my oldest friend —
Although Your address haven’t got —
And so — my letter — where to send?
How know I if received or not?
Expect — regardless — post returned
To sender — here — in earthly jail —
Or might not be reply — if — earned —
Arrive — then — by celestial mail?


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COME FREQUENTLY IN DREAM THE DEAD

Come frequently in dream the dead —

To wander Now as if they Were —

Surprising not — though — resurrect —

Ignition light of sleep occur;



But when the morning — strange they seem —

Of empire other land their ilk —

And by the sunrise fly their dream —

As bird or bee or thread of silk.