Father’s Photo in Vietnam


I wake suddenly

Age 12 in the Viet Cong

Jungle of my father’s memory


I am tracking my way

Back to camp

Rifle at my side


Underfoot the root

Of story mangled thick

Above is canopy

Vine and lush

Barely audible through night

I am in search of his rescue


His Vietnam

A Marine

Somewhere in this war

Then back home

The suburbs


The enemy hidden


Agent Orange

Taking the bones

The lungs

I have been deployed

All my life

In search of this man

Lost in active duty

Standing beside him

Hand on shoulder

Feet in the paddy fields

Calling his name


All that there is

Is the passing

His passing

The sun

The earth

My father

This photo

Black and white


Rebecca Villineau