Meditations on The Vietnam Wall
       

As the walkway descends,
the black marble walls etched
with the names of the dead
grow taller, surrounding us
with more and more names.
We are being buried by the dead—
taken over by this epic loss.

Then there are the crowds
interacting with the wall,
leaving behind candles, teddy bears, notes.
People kneeling, hands on a name,
humans bereft.

Cold stone with the power
to unloosen torrents of tears,
deep wells of sorrow.

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Copyright © 2019 Pat Williams Owen All rights reserved
from Orion's Belt at the End of the Drive
Accents Publishing
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission