45-year-old poem still relevant

Years ago, in 1969, my husband, Jim Morton, and our children, Becky Copeland and Kevin Copeland, lived in Libby, where we had the Pay N Pak store.

I wrote articles for the paper, particularly about the local artists. I did several on Ray Porter.

This poem I am enclosing was published 45 years ago in your paper and it seems to be it could have been yesterday.

I thought you might like to print it again.

Gloves of White

They’re flying all the flags today

Up California and down Mineral way.

Another soldier’s home from war.

He does not sing, he speaks no more.

And long ago, one day in spring

I took the flag the soldiers bring

With measured tread and gloves of white

And bugle notes that took to flight.

Now, all the years that I have seen

And still he sleeps, just seventeen

When will we learn it is God’s plan

That man must finally live with man.

I loved living in Libby.

—Marie Morton,

Victor