Huey

on the occasion of a fly-over by Vietnam Veterans
at the Fourth of July parade in Clayton, CA, 2013

The Huey made two friendly passes
over our red, white, and blue selves lining
like candy stripes the black heating street.
We waved at our boys, our American boys.

But old men stared down from shadows
inside the helicopter. No parade
had brought them home. No cheers
had called them out. No waves
had beckoned them: Our boys, be done.

Now we smiled and watched
the dark hollow of sky
knowing they were there
yet still unable
to tell their features.