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Viet Nam Remembered

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves for “Viet Nam Remembered”:

A few quiet moments,

Gazing at each name.

A moment of respect

In drizzling rain.

 

This polished black “V”

Gashed into the earth,

Names of dead recorded

Instead of birth.

 

As I stood there soaked

In beleaguered calm,

Recalling memories of buddies

In a place called Viet Nam.

 

I remember young faces,

Etched in grimy fear.

Muddy fatigues sagging,

Weighted down with gear.

 

Orange blossom napalm flashes,

Jellying up a hill.

Sweating soldiers cuss

While mustering their will.

 

Incoming rockets roar

Amidst bursting mortar shells,

No thought of Heaven

In this little piece of Hell!

 

Med-E-Vac choppers lift off,

Another wounded body gone.

Ashen-white face reveals

A friend left alone.

 

Maybe these inscribed names

Fit faces in my mind.

Scenes vivid and real

Forever enshrined.

 

Although it’s officially over,

Still there’s no end.

As I stand here quietly

With memories of friends.

 

Who has the answer,

Why we fought this war?

What did it accomplish?

What was it all for?

 

The answer now has become muted,

Grown hazy over time.

But you’ll never forget them

When you see their shrine.

 

Bronze at Viet Nam War Memorial

Bronze at Viet Nam War Memorial

Viet Nam War Memorial

Viet Nam War Memorial

 

 

Cowboy Heaven

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

The cowboys are gone,

At least so I hear.

“Not so,” said my friend,

“Lend me your ear.”

 

Acting very quickly

On my friend’s good advice,

I went to Cowboy Heaven

And did a double take — twice.

 

The dance hall was crowded,

And, folks, I will swear

There were cowboys and cowgirls

Dancing everywhere.

 

One tall wrangler

Stood out so stark…

He wore a neon hatband

That glowed in the dark.

 

He wore an oilskin outbacker

That reached his boot tops.

He was sweating and stomping

To fast country pop.

 

Another short puncher

Cam shufflin’ along.

He was dressed up for dancin’

And bad-to-the-bone.

 

He wore a flannel checkered shirt

While his partner wore lace.

His huge belt buckle shone.

Mascara ran down her face.

 

Another wrangler came driftin’ by

Wearing sandals and socks.

He bellied up to the bar

And ordered Schnapps on the rocks.

 

It sounded like thunder

As boots shook the floor.

They did the Boot Scootin’ Boogie

And were anxious for more.

 

One huge cowgirl

Dancing and struttin’ around

Must have weighed in

At three hundred pounds.

 

She and her puncher

Were having a fling.

She was large enough

To rope steer with a string.

 

The music was so loud

My nerves were a-tingling.

This one rowdy romped by…

His spurs were a-jingling.

 

Cowboy Heaven, Do-si-dos,

Electric Slide, and Cotton-eyed Joe,

Achy Breaky, sweat and strain,

Cowboys and cowgirls feelin’ no pain.

 

The music slowed down…

You could even hear the tune.

Some crooner was singing

About a Neon Moon.

 

Why did I worry myself

About the cowboys being gone?

They’re all at the Cowboy Heaven,

And they’ve all found a home.

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