looking back at me
from the highly
polished black
granite
wall
is my reflection
wounded broken
wheelchair bound
man that's
me
i don't like what i
see legs dead things
paralyzed
useless
just
hanging there they have
been that way since
sixty nine
happened
in
lai khe vietnam
eons ago
i can't talk
about
it
it's bad enough i
remember "what
happened to
you?" a
small
boy asks me "i was
hurt in the war
a long time
ago
you weren't born then"
"did you know my
granpa? he
was in
the
marines" he said "no,
son, i was in
the army"
i said
the
little boy climbs up
into my lap throws
his little
arms 'round
my
neck kisses my cheek
says "thank you i'm
glad you did
not die"
tears
roll down both of our
faces i've found
my healing
at the
wall
--------------------------------------------------------------
may we all find a healing...and may we
never have to build another memorial.

(((HUGS))) and love,

karla. :(