How very strange, cruel and mis-understanding that we see no Poetry Category for the Viet Nam conflict, almost like we are having to go through the antagonizing of coming home again the way we did, with zero support. Sad.
GIRL OF SAIGON I've seen death every day in a tropical rain, I could tell you about it, but I can't take the pain. There's a path through the bush it's all tainted and red, from the blood of believers, who were right in their head. I've killed fathers and sons, never blinking an eye, and I've looked in the eyes of a friend as he died. I've been drunk in Saigon, where I tried to forget, but with life all around me, I've not found a way yet. In a way life is coasting, other ways it's a climb, but I don't like to guess if it's all worth the time. In Saigon was a girl with the prettiest eyes, she knew life as it is, and it's lies and more lies. She knew brave hearted men, and she loved every one, and she loved every child, when the fathers were gone. © 2001 ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
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