One March afternoon in 1969 I was on the deck of a Chinese junk listening to the water clop against the wooden hull and enjoying a breeze that blew toward the South China Sea. The junk bobbed ... [+]
74-year old grandfather. Served with IVS, Vietnam, 1968-69 in II Corps/III Corps. Police-fire-court reporter for Holyoke (MA) Transcript. Editor for GTE NW "Newsworthy" paper. PA Officer (DAE) fo ... [+]
In the morning night
When streetlight shadows
Scramble rat-ways
Under parked cars
And rain, down pipes,
Taps the pavement
Like an impatient date,
Then radio music,
Drifting memory-thin
Over rural roads,
Sputters at its edges
And freight trucks
Swish the overpass,
Their beams streaking
Above my windshield:
A caravan of comets.