When the Vietnam-era soldier came home he was met with silence, indifference, and often with insults.  Airports were empty and heroes were met by a wife or mother or dad.  There were no welcoming groups, no bands, no speeches when these boys, guardians of their nation, came walking home.

When I catch the wind, I’ll be saner then.
I’ll have a love who will be true
My people will honor me for the youth I gave up for them
When I catch the wind.

If I could paint a tree
And therein see the essence of me
Perhaps I would be
Whom I came here to be.

If I could sing a song
Forget all that went wrong
Perhaps I would know the melody of joy
Like baseball when I was a boy.

If I could paint, if I could sing
What sort of life would that bring
Time and art will bury my lance
I shall dance.

When I catch the wind
When I have killed no men
I shall be saner then
When I catch the wind.

Ray Kenneth Clark

February 24 ·

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