told himself he would not write about his illness.
The risk of being maudlin was too great.
But he did, and Bill Kloefkorn decided some of the poems weren't too bad.
Like the one he called "Hands."
"beside you someone whose hand you'd recognize in any degree of darkness holding your hand, wristbone connected to the armbone, and though you don't know how this world began or how it might end, you know the pathway that leads to repose . . ."
from Lincoln Journal Star: Nebraska loses state poet Bill Kloefkorn
then Nebraska State Paper: Bill Kloefkorn died Thursday at age 78
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