Missing pieces. Part two
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Sometime we can find the missing pieces. It can close doors that are needed to be shut and understood.
The Korean war was a short and bloody war. My father did two tours in Korea.
He only spoke of war when drunk late at night. The rum opened door to memories and friends faces lost in the Korean dirt. I would sit at a distance. He would have conversation with dead friends who never made it home. One day I went with him to California. He stood at his friend grave and he said his final goodbye. I remember his face when I left for war. He had tears in his eyes as I boarded the plane for Iraq. This was a hard man knowing his son was following his father’s footstep.
A reunion of the…
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