GRADUATION DAY
A valedictorian's speech
No mention of a draft,
A handshake, a diploma
The sergeant bellows his craft.
A last dance with a date,
Boots, fatigue and a gun,
A corsage and a tuxedo
Innocent anticipation.
The humming of a chopper,
My buddy's near me I pray,
Napalm, blood and stench
This is Graduation Day.
Judy Tracey 1995
dedicated to Gary Deschaine
U.S. Army Vietnam
BILLY MUNN
You have touched the lives of many
In your short years of youth.
Many of us ask the reason?
Ask why? Where's the truth?
For you were asked to go
And be a man, brave one too
To fight a war of question
Not even understood by you.
You promise your return
To the girl you were to wed,
But the unfairness of death
Is what she got instead.
Over and over in our dreams
We see you marry your loved one,
In your memory we smile
You touched our lives Billy Munn
Judy Tracey 1995
in memory of Billy Munn
U.S. Army Vietnam
PROMISE ME PAPPA
Tell me again Pappa
While I stand here small,
About the Vietnam WAr
And the names on the wall.
Tell me again Pappa
Though young I may be,
About the brave and the bold
And the death so untimely.
Tell me again Pappa
While I'm safe at your side,
About yours fears and dreams
And the tears you can't hide.
Promise me Pappa
We'll come here again,
And youl tell me the stories
Of the North Wall Men.
Judy Tracey 1995
dedicated to Wayne Hillman
U.S. Army Vietnam
PICKING UP THE PIECES
I can see it in the lines of your face
I can feel it as you bow your head,
I can hear your unspoken words
I can taste the tears you can't shed.
Because you watched their faces
As you held their heads, they died
You heard their last words spoken
Now all your tears have dried.
I can ease your pain with love,
I can share your pain through life.
I can listen to your pain of silence,
After all, I am your wife.
Judy Tracey 1995
dedicated to medic Bob Leblanc
U.S. Navy Vietnam
BRUSH AND PAIL
The jogger on his usual path
Through fallen leaves this day of fall,
Came upon a women with brush and pail
Both approaching the North Wall.
He watched with curiosity
As she read the names and reached high,
Then with fingers frail and gentle
She touched a name and began to cry.
He watched her on her knees
Body bent aged and small,
While she scrubbed the black graite
Beneath the flags standing tall.
To the jogger on his usual path
Through fallen leaves this day of fall,
Said the woman with brush and pail
My son's name is on that wall.
Judy Tracey
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