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There the ghosts of young men, whose faces
will never fade and wounds that will never heal
Across the jungle’s canopy top the monkeys still     
scream and bouncing betties so surreal, among
 the elephant grass and red poppies still wait…
 they can kill friend and foe equally well
Forty years and more have faded into the past
But dark memories like these forever will last,
Mothers still cry and father still moan and sigh
War is hell they say; just ask any survivor,
their memories of that jungle hell are alive and well
Buddies, friends and family names inscribed on that 
Black granite wall, they will forever stand tall,
The Vietnam  War was their call.
 Jackie R. Kays
© 2012


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