i found his name on the Wall
i was much older
than when we had laughed on the beach
cruised the strip in his old MG
and were shipmates crossing the Pacific
before he had flown his chopper
into some nameless Vietnamese hillside
when i found his name in the book i cried
without shame
then led my young son to his place on the Wall
where i rubbed his name into paper
and tried to explain who we had been
and what had happened
i can still see him
fifty years later
as if it were yesterday