Horace Coleman

A BLACK SOLDIER REMEMBERS

My Saigon daughter I saw only once
standing in the dusty square
across from the Brink's BOQ/PX
in the back of the National Assembly
next to the ugly statue of
the crouching marines facing
the fish pond the VC blew up
during Tet.

The amputee beggars watch us.
The same color and same eyes.
She does not offer me one of the
silly hats she sells Americans and
I have nothing she needs but
the sad smile she already has.