Stephanie D.

The Soldiers

All the sounds of Vietnam can be heard
In a dank and tiny airport.

Here comes the mob now, steadily approaching.

"You are very beautiful," one stops to say
Through a thick and butchered accent,
His smile spanning both sides of his green beret.

The rest are crowded around elsewhere
A mess of camouflage and cigarettes,
Fascinated with the old veteran I call my father.

He bids me one last grin, and turns to join them.
I stare out the nearest window,
Gazing aimlessly at the planes
coming in, taking off,
And think upon my
first encounter
On the other side of the world.





[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]


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