Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
My father a medic in Vietnam for many years refused to wear his wedding ring because he said of countless times he had to handle the aftermath of soldiers jumping out of helicopters at the exact moment their wedding rings caught on protruding bolts or couplings, leaving their fingers and rings aboard Hueys while they fell caterwauling in air below crimson contrails dissolving in rotor wash only to land, godforsaken, in flooded rice paddies, shocked and shaken, disjointed but alive, forever joined in holy matrimony to far-flung wives.
0
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
Wedding Rings
My father a medic in Vietnam for many years refused to wear his wedding ring because he said of countless times he had to handle the aftermath of soldiers jumping out of helicopters at the exact moment their wedding rings caught on protruding bolts or couplings, leaving their fingers and rings aboard Hueys while they fell caterwauling in air below crimson contrails dissolving in rotor wash only to land, godforsaken, in flooded rice paddies, shocked and shaken, disjointed but alive, forever joined in holy matrimony to far-flung wives.
jonathan-witte
Written by
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem