Twice I touched his name…
once on etched marble in D.C.
Panel 28W-Line 97
again on bronzed font
near Memorial Stadium.
He slept for decades
on a hill in Laos
cradled in green tendrils
till they ferreted his bones
from the soil.
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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