Vietnam Memorial, Washington D.C.
Simple folk
(and here we are all simple folk)
set tokens at a wall lined with names.
Flowers, framed photos, a note:
Happy Birthday
Angel GrandDaddy
from Teresa.
Everyone combs the names. It’s what one does here.
I find Denny.
Oh man. That was fifty years ago.
This life, he hasn’t had.
Can’t find Jimmy. Guess he made it, after all.
Wet eyes. I have to sit down.
You, little one, without a word
climb onto my lap, lean your cheek
against my chest, breathing. My love.
Just right.
After so much went wrong.
…..
From my book Random Saints
First printed in Rise Up Review. Thank you Sonia Greenfield, editor.
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