Greetings

“Greetings from Uncle Sam”, it said

To a post box in my youth

No more sleeping late in bed

No more skirting the honest truth

“Your country needs you more”, it said

You’ll leave on the morning train

Now in billets you’ll find your bed

Next you’re riding on a plane

Permitting your simple life to change

Thrown into a boiling pot

Early to the firing range

Learning how wars are fought

If you had wanted to fight a war

You’d have made one of your own

Something smaller and not so far

Something quiet; more home grown

You find yourself in Vietnam

A small place far from home

Now you do the best you can

To thwart an early headstone

Thinking every day that’s passed

Brings you one day closer to home

Hoping the next day won’t be your last

Wishing you were talking on the phone

Finally the day is here

You’ll board the freedom plane

You toss any excess gear

That carries a battle stain

You climb on the freedom plane

That lovely seven oh quick

You suddenly lose all distain

And thank heaven you’re not sick

It’s finally over; at least you think

You don’t know it’ll last for years

You wash the last dirt in the sink

But remains your worst fears

©6/2/07Terry Sutherland

Sans Peur

Terry