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By Carl Michael "Tiny" Readinger
Some of my things were written as a tribute to the last close friend I will ever allow myself to have: Dennis Hammond, U.S.M.C. Pow/Kia/Mia
I am active with his remaining family, and will continue to pursue the return of his remains. I see the possibility of VVHP helping to make that a reality.
Read Michael's efforts to locate the remains of Dennis Hammond in "Case number 1042" in the POW/KIA/MIA Gallery.
It was 2:00 a.m in the morning, when he came upon the wall...
a dark black "V" of granite, it stands not very tall.
The timing was premeditated, he had to be alone...
for it's very hard to hear a voice that's etched in stone.
He paced those wings of black, looking for a friend...
and to reflect upon a moment in time, to a place where
they'd once been.
Then the panel suddenly appeared, and the voice was
once again heard...
a long-lost friend had been found, among the whisper of
his word.
In the silence of the night, it echoed from the wall...
"You can let it go now, and thanks for coming to call"
And then he moved away, the silhouetted wall began to
fade...
but looking back he noticed......his shadow....it had
stayed.
Twist '67-'68
EMPTY STREETS OF TRASH
The old man just stumbled...
through empty streets of trash...
another bottle emptied...
another place to crash.
Among the cobwebs of his memory...
strums the reflections of his past...
of a place he once lived...
where slow was once too fast.
A place in time that he had been...
and of the folks that he had met...
owing and owed by no one...
he's but a tarnished Viet-Vet.
The weather cannot hurt him...
nor can words effect his soul...
he's just an old proud patriot...
without a place to go.
He now lives in empty streets of trash...
where once, would have felt at home...
but now he feels the numbness...
of growing old alone.
But he smiles as he stumbles...
stumbles and weaves into the night...
for he had given what was asked of him...
a deed, he'd felt....was right.
....for the homeless Vets...
Twist '67-'68
I once walked the valley of peace...
a peace I can no longer find.
for it's the valley of hell, I also walk...
that I hold within my mind.
A place of death and destruction...
where most that I loved was lost.
it's a dark, black granite wall...
that holds for me the cost.
A fondness of some friends, so very long ago...
you would think that time would erase...
but everytime I visit this valley...
I always see their face.
How is it that this can happen...
in one moment of one's past...
a life becomes shattered and broken...
a muddy, rutted road...a road of hell was cast.
But this road of hell, is well patrolled...
by those who have seen it's wrath...
by those that once lost friends...
upon this darkened path.
But maybe there is a brotherhood...
of us that were left behind...
the lost now live in this valley of peace...
that we can only seek.....seek within our mind.
Twist '67-'68
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