For every aging boomer there are one or two they've known: Heroes of the battlefield Who never made it home.
Some classmate who was butchered in a fire fight in βNam. A sibling who had perished in the standoff at Khe Sanh.
Perhaps the Tet offensive left some friend's blood spilled and spent. Politicians speak of glory- Itβs the grunts who pay the rent
From the walls of Hue to Can Ranh Bay from Tonkin to Saigon. there is a wall in Washington with their names inscribed thereon.
The lucky ones who did come home recall the name and face of some heroic eighteen year old who perished in their place.
The Traveling Wall. The mobile version of the Vietnam memorial came to our town back when I wrote this poem. It is a companion piece to my Poem "The Butterfly"