This Sunday we went to view the traveling wall from the Vietnam war memorial. I wondered what I would feel if I knew anyone of the 58,000 named on the black wall. I decided to choose an unknown man to honor. At the base of the fifth panel sat a bouquet of yellow daisies, a black and white photo of a mother and child, and a picture of a young man in uniform, Jesus F. Ortega.
As I glanced up the panel to try and find his name among five hundred others, I immediately saw one name clearly, Jesus F. Ortega. A small miracle.
Yesterday, I found a site called "flashy fiction" that gives writing prompts...this is a poem I wrote in response to a quote that contained the phrase "strange territory." (I guess war was still on my mind...)
A Photo Caption:
We went strangely into territory smoothed by other's blood,
though we did not know it at the time,
we were making our own flesh dance,
we were photographing our own bones.
In the desert, in the dry rain,
we lit the fuse of Hiroshima on our knees.