Etched In Stone

I cried when I saw them

and thought, "oh God, not you";

then they told me you had died

in the jungles of Vietnam,

trying to save people,

and that was so like you.

I remember your deep compassion,

and how you use to dream

of wanting freedom for everyone

and a more peaceful world;

and how it became shattered

in a war no one wants to remember.

All that remains with me now

is your warm and gentle memory,

making it harder for me

to reach out to touch

the coldness of your name,

etched in stone.

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