When I met the tall and still youthful Vietnam war veteran, my shyness showed, my dry throat tightened when he softly spoke the words,"It never goes away," All these humanity destroying wars never cease, soldier's names, faces, etched all over Americana, Their love letters sent home engraved on America's soul, not always given a hero's welcome homecoming. Their nightmares flashing as they wake up sweating in their sheets in the dark, screaming for respite from still hearing the firefight, still seeing the VC, and hearing the life breaths leaving mortally wounded brothers, descending into the night's loneliness, the blue-gray of the t.v. on low volume, the sobbing of a loyal wife, some marriages, families split apart with crushing sadness, many veterans homeless on U.S. streets, such a heartbreaking shame shadowing over the face of America the beautiful. Surviving veteran's hair becomes snow-white, war wounds become more arthritic, memories of their war buddies still sweetly preserved in sepia images, Veteran's reunions as their bones stiffen, but still salute their brothers and sisters in arms, their caps with the name of the wars they fought in, the brethren of the Army, Air Force, Marines, and Navy. They stepped forward, some of them barely out of high school, with brothers of the same town, the same state, so much youth called up, joining brothers from other U S. regions, blessed by God in their fraternity, their bravery, The deep red poppies represent their precious blood, I remember the 1960's-70's seared scars in my mind, as my mother and I embraced weeping for the loss of so many of our soldiers, the hurt in our hearts. MIA's, POWS, disappeared as aging families still pray, still wait, In the local Veteran's Cemetery I met a woman in her eighties, a little confused, she couldn't recall where her son's grave was located, her son was a Vietnam veteran, she told me her daughter in law couldn't bear to visit his grave, we found his grave, his name glistening in the dew of that May morning, As wrens and sparrows sang on blossomed boughs, a chance encounter became such a gift to honor her son, and let her know he was not forgotten, but cherished, Welcome Home. ~