at the shore, Nha Trang 1968

are the purple clouds
of this coastal dawn
truly dragons’ breath?

the drifting whiteness
of the river’s mist,
pelt of unicorn?

and the crescent blacks
of the beachhead palms,
scimitars of warriors laid low?

the myriad atoms
of sea-polished sand,
the sages’ thoughts
gone crystalline?

or are these things
but what they seem,
devoid of dream,
unmindful of their history,
the silent substance
of oblivion?

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  1968; revised 2013

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2 responses to “at the shore, Nha Trang 1968

  1. Beautiful. 🙂 I was also felt obliged to write about the mysteries of Vietnam. ‘Vietnam: a gypsy in a war torn country.’
    http://withluck.wordpress.com/2011/11/10/vietnam-travelling-through-a-war-torn-country/

  2. Liana – I left a reply also at your Viet Nam poem’s comment field. That poem was a stillness, a little meditation on the simple ways people become again themselves after trauma, such as a war of such long duration… Thanks, again. ~ Greg

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