Going Away

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?