I wrote this poem at the Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C., on Veteran’s Day ‘89 during my first and most significant visit. I watched many people at the Wall tracing names, touching names, and staring off in reflection. After experiencing the same for myself, I wrote this poem at 3 AM. I pictured my daughter, Kelly, as the child asking the questions.
Daddy, why are there names on the wall?
They are Americans killed during the Vietnam War.
Daddy, why do the people touch the wall?
To touch the wall is to touch the dead.
Daddy, why are the people crying?
The dead are touching them back.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
'Daddy, Why are the people crying?'
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