Thinking today of gaps,
Such as those in my father’s memories: of long hours of the Tet Offensive, of the fate of the little girl who carried ammunition along the enemy lines when they were dug in, of his fellow soldiers who drifted away upon discharge, of all that he tried to push away;
At his reunions, where they fall over each other to remind themselves I was there! that was me with you, that night, that battle!, but fall silent at the details of what happened next;
In the ranks of men coming home, like lines of teeth smashed by a brutal, unseeing fist.