Last night awakened with thoughts of him
How long has it has been, only
Yesterday …
First one I ever saw laid out
I sixteen, he nineteen, Viet Nam
Airborne …
Purple complexion seeping through under glass
I gaze on doll-like hair
Broomcorn …
His uniform perfect, tie straight
Blouse olive, at attention
Airborne …
No one else at the funeral home
Me and a girl friend too early for death
Careworn …
Dead before he hit the ground
Cut down by ground-fire first jump no longer
airborne ...
So many years now, forty-two,
awakened with thoughts of him,
Wind-borne …
Still see his body rigid attention
rumor wire for arm, died before his time
Soilborne …
Didn’t know him well, would he
still be here if not
Airborne …
Would we have smoked and talked about
women if he would be
reborn …
And what of Thua Thien, what now
monument, blood of airborne boys?
Golf course …
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