Crowned
“king of the gods” in high school,
caped with scepter in hand, a gentle smile,
the basketball star in our tiny world,
at 21, a lieutenant in Vietnam.
Bombs
fell on the green villages
perimeters strafed and over-run
maimed bodies,
youth,
sanity,
all sacked up together like shades of rice
before the boiling pot.
Carved
your name
on marble,
held in place
by those who died before
and after you,
carved on black
marble reflecting back the twisted mouths
holding grief high and tight,
hands offering medals,
roses,
poems
to names on a wailing wall.
FEWalls
A Long Perspective 