Lucille J. Biscaglio


I come here alone,
knowing none
unsure of what I will find

Looking up
and over my shoulder
I see him

I don’t know him.
So many people here; still
he seems apart… lost

I look again…
slowly lifting my eyes
until they are locked on him

I reach to touch him
he feels cold at first…
but warms under my hands.

When I take my hands away
I find they are cold.
I warm them with my tears

With me stand many
touching cold black granite
warming a name with their fingers.

Is he someone they knew… loved?
I didn’t know him…
but someone did.

Author’s Note: For all those whose names are on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, all those who served beside them and all those who knew and loved them. May they be warmed by our never ending gratitude and remembrance.