My tears are cries where eye's anger is deadly. Like a rooster in the farm across the read, I found lf walking into a dream of loss, Between you and me. I will return to the land of ponji-sticks and bomb craters Where body and mind have been put on the stake. To live once again a life I miss A life lost in the killing laps of time where the ghosts of the bodes go on living On the turntable of seasons pain's needle has scratched the dirge of old dreams. Looking on checking with the past is so good for our future.
Frogs cry from the trees as ghosts of humans and animals.
We talk and write, we live and die. Reaching far, reaching in, we have nothing to loose. Let your face express its own oblivion on dead tree trunks winter's bite will face soon at the edge of the Red river years of drought, hidden wounds, climatic changes. Tonight we make a big leap to end the war for good. It was a pretty simple life until I was cordially invited into the chaos of Vietnam.