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Today is such a lovely, beautiful day
The sky, I behold the simple beauty of the sky
Such a gorgeous shade of blue,
With lazy clouds floatin' slowly by

Upon this beautiful summer day,
I could almost believe I'm there
Lying upon the sandy beach of Carolina,
And nothing terrible could happen
upon a day such as this
It was more than a lifetime ago,
I was just 17 back then
across the distant faded years.
Amost 50 years to be exact.

The jungle is forgiving
no matter how the war had torn it
and poisoned it,
with agent Orange
fertilized it
with the blood of so many young men.
It recovered as resilient
as a spring in the hardware store
resuming its original shape
as though nothing had ever been there.

I am an old man now
far from the blush of my youth spent here
but I need to be here before my time is passed.
I could feel it calling me in the nightbirds song.
In the summer rainstorms.
And mostly when the thunder cracked the air.

I find the clearing where it happened
And close my eyes almost in prayer.

And I know I canfeel them
here again with me,
all of them.

We are all so young,so handsome
so full of life and possibilities.
We are passing round  a doobie
I take a long deep drag of the ****
my head calms down.
I see my girl my mother and sister.
But they are a lifetime removed.

A feeling for my buddies overtakes me
perhaps it was the marijuana
maybe it's just plain love,
Yes, I think it was love.

I shout, I love you man
to my best buddy Joe.
He shouts back
not as much as I love you man,

Soldiers get closer than wives
and girlfriends
we touch where it counts
where all the chips fall.
Where blood spills
And promises are kept.
It's real love
not that  ****** holywood crap.

I keep my eyes closed
I feel Joe close by me.
I know now
why I made this journey .
Why I was here
pulling the scabs of old wounds
letting them bleed again.

I see the tracer lights
of the gunfire in the clearing.
I see Joe fall mortally  wounded.
guys were dying all around me.
They were not calling for god
they cried like children
Their last cry for their mother..

I hold Joe in my my arms
He is dying.
His blood soaks my shirt.
Tears fall from my young eye's.
It's a vision
that is etched into my soul.
his last words are
I love you man.

I open my eyes
It now again the noise
has stopped in my head.
The clearing is. ghostly silent
except for the ceasless
chirping of the jungle.

My mouth whispers softly.
Capturing all that was left of me.
Not as much as I love you man.
Return to Nam
by
jude
Chocolates have tasted many
Dark bitter white
Candied and sweet
Local
And from different parts of the
World
Loved them all ,when I ate them
Yet
One, I love the most
Is Cadbury’s Dairy Milk

Unwrapping the purple-golden wrapper
The aroma sweet
Melts in the mouth always a lovely treat
Sweet memories of childhood it brings many
Of sharing the love and care
https://youtu.be/NheJiVVLgzk
Sharing this link to an old Cadbury’s ad from 90’s
 Jul 2018 Nancy E Tracy
Jen
Sometimes,
I look up
To distant stars,
Letting myself
Wander off
But, not too far…
So now,
I begin again,
Creating
The best version
I can be.
It feels great.
Not living for them,
No longer a slave
To their words,
Constantly
Beating down
Like stones upon
Ice water.

So I, so I,
So I…
Begin again.
 Jul 2018 Nancy E Tracy
Jen
Veins
 Jul 2018 Nancy E Tracy
Jen
We all have
Veins,
Underneath
Our skin.

I try to forget,
But keep
Remembering.

Used to be
Pulled down
With each
Word like a knife.

Now I'm
Lifting myself
Up-
Although,
Each day
Is a
Fight.

Just have to
Keep on,
Moving towards
The Light.

Sometimes
I hear
Your words
In my mind,
Then
Those of another,
And another,
It's the same
Every time.

There is
A spirit
Though,
That's always
By my side.
Do you know we as humans have limitations
For instance, our vision is limited

For example, let's chat about the Wind,
From where does the wind come?

Is the wind a material thing?
Does anyone physically see the wind?

Yet, we know the wind is here or there
We see what the wind does..
mementos
richly held
hidden in
fractured chest

big people
shifting boxes
heavy
light

silenced
a child's fissure
clasping favourite shell
close

swift salvage
in tight world
rescue from
gaping hole




#family #disruption #moving #treasures #mementos #lost #ignored
For a very young child, moving house can be incredibly bewildering, disruptive, even traumatizing, especially when moving countries tends to mean belongings need to be severely curtailed.  Few remember their own childhood attachments, closely held treasures, even if perceived by harried adults as inconsequential as a bag of broken seashells.  Would a little more listening and empathic explanation with kindness ease things well at such transition times
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