Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

1969 Was a Sad Year

1969 was a sad year for those aware of Viet Nam
We were seventeen and eighteen
It was in the news but what did it have to do with us?
Our love was intense
He wore white jeans that made me wild
He knew it, so he wore them often
Driving me crazy

Nothing else mattered, nothing else mattered
We thought no one knew our secret look
Others gave us our illusion
His draft number was thirty-six
He found a loophole
I begged him to use it.
It was daring. On Christmas week his number went to number 1.
Only for a week, then he would get a new number, way back in the two hundreds
Our love was intense
He wanted to please me
Driving his folks crazy

A phone call came on Christmas Day
He had to go; they had pulled his card.
I felt awful. Our love was intense. 
Vietnam was real now
He wanted more now before he left.
I was wild but not that wild.
This was the Bible belt
Small town America
His pleas were driving me crazy
At the airport we could not keep our hands off each other.
I told him we could do the things he wanted when he returned.
But he did not last two weeks.
He was killed in a jungle
We did not even care about
My heart blew up in the landmine with his
Driving me crazy
I wish I had done things differently
I would like to see those white jeans again

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Dawne Zacharias June 1, 2019 at 10:27 PM A passionate reflection turned impossible, by the body's separation from the spirit. I am sure he came back to say goodbye, but the thought was not allowed in your passionate heart your hope was on living. Caren Krutsinger June 1, 2019 at 10:33 PM Thank you Dawne. This poem is actually about my husband who took a chance and threw in to be number one for one week -on Christmas, but went back to a larger number. I wrote it as if he had not come back, for so many did not.