My daughter texted me “good night (for you)”
Not meaning to say that I am living in the past
Though it was the next morning there in Vietnam
Where she is enjoying her visit to a beautiful place.
That to me it is a place of horrors inflicted in my name
Forming my oppositional world view fifty years ago
Protesting against that imperialist dehumanizing war
Siding with the communist victory of national liberation.
What happened then is far removed from my daughter
Like the First World War was to me in the nineteen-sixties
What matters to her are the current events in her lifetime
As she finds her way to express her sympathies.
It’s a different world and a different country today
Though I’m still somewhat surprised to see my age spots
Remembering those military surplus Vietnam jungle boots
Footwear made in Korea before the factories moved again.
Now I often find made in Vietnam clothing labels
On the same rack with made in Haiti or Bangladesh
All places I have never been but connecting me to them
I know their life is hard but lived with moments of joy.
My daughter tells me Hoi An is absolutely gorgeous
She’s in love with the city and its night market
Her arrival destination filled with flowers and lanterns
And their dinner was amazing, too.
I know the Vietnamese people are exceptional
I hope to hear many good stories about them
Lifting their country and their lives from the devastation
Giving new meaning to “Good Morning, Vietnam!”
