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