They told us the green of Vietnam
Was so bright, it made your eyes hurt. They stood
In the doorway of the pizza parlor
In heavy boots, heads shaved, stomping for warmth,
These boys, our boys, shivering through their winter leave
As they told us appalling stories,
Giggling, darting glances at each other.
I can’t say we believed them. Who
Were these boys, gone not long, but so
Alien, they could have come from Mars?
They were bored with us now.
A friend’s brother came home spooky,
Spent every night shooting fireworks
Over the skies of Lake Calhoun
Until he re-enlisted, dying over there
In the bright green jungle, electric
As the morning my father gave up the ghost
Of a life gone wrong, deep in the frigid
Winter of my first year at college,
During the Tet Offensive, of all things.
Nothing was green then, not my tears, not one thing.
Upon returning home, one of them shot to death a family of five.
From: » Susan Yuzna Banango Street
Date: 2015
By: Susan Yuzna (1949- )