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Poem

I reckon time
By my children’s ages
My daughter is 30
My son is 25
No, this happened 
A long time ago
Before I met their mother
How many years was that?

They seemed to be missing 
All at once 
Stan from Buffalo, NY
Died on some unknown hill 
In Da Nang 
Little Mac from Chester, Pa 
Friend 
And alcoholic 
Died in a VA Hospital 
Big Bob for sure was going 
To be a twenty year man 
The Texan 
Never made it past two. 

The memories ache
A burning sensation
That rides and moves
Deep inside
And never heals
Wasn't it just a few years ago 
Summer of ‘67
When we fell out for roll call 
And waited
Sweat 
Slowly rolled down 
Big Bob’s neck
Staining his collar
From the corner of my eye
Stan fidgeted
As we waited
Under the merciless sun
Whispering and trading rumors.

The officers came out
NCOs following them
A young Lieutenant
Spoke
Sounding like a rod 
Was stuck in his lower back
The NCOs wore sunglasses 
The reflective ones
That hid the circles of their eyes
From the shadows
They watched us 
Something was going to happen
Just what we weren’t sure.

We listened to names 
Like 
Saigon 
Hue 
Republic of Viet Nam 
Charlie 
Realizing
We were finally  
Heading out 
On a big bird 
Over the Pacific 
To swoop down on ‘ Nam 
Faces flush with excitement 
We hurried 
To
Call back home
Check gear
Write last minute letters
No one wanted 
To be left behind. 
  
The word was 
That it would be over 
Before we knew it 
We’d be back home 
In no time. 
   
I stand alone 
Listening 
To my breathing 
Sound coming in 
Going out 
Feeling a chill 
From some unknown place 
In the silence 
I ask myself 
Where did everyone go?

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