No more the pure white innocence of laughter, or of joy. Now these burnt and fragile people are no longer boys. And time secretes the memories into dim and darkened vaults never to see the light of day, so we can charge no fault. When we test the living water but see no warmth or light we shut the vaults back up again to ensure that we survive. For more poetry and stories from Australian Vietnam Veteran, Anthony W. Pahl, go to his web site at Bushrangers's Revetment Return to menu All material contained on this web site is copyright protected.
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