The Wall (Haibun) Poem by hap rochelle

He visited the memorial soon after its dedication. It stunned him on first viewing. A large black gash in the earth, shaped like a flying vee, barely a foot high at either end, and over twelve feet tall at the intersection of the two walls. Names, thousands upon thousands of names chiseled in the stone.



black stone scars green grass
polished granite a mirror
the living, the dead.









Awestruck, he followed the path down into the earth, looking for 1968. The most American deaths occurred that year, his first 'in country', and it took some time to find the first name he recognized. As he faced it he saw himself in the mirror of black granite, grown older, the sky and clouds behind him, and in his mind an image of that long dead boy...







a boy's name, chiseled
into polished black granite
old man's reflection









Memories flooded in, and he realized he was silently weeping. He glanced around anxiously, hoping no one noticed, and saw tears on many faces. He reached up and traced the name with his fingers...









touch the name
memories flood through me
no barrier between
arm in arm, old and young
no distance or time intrudes