The SoldiersAll 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
On the other side of the world.
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]
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