Christina A. Sharik


We were closer when you were in Vietnam
Than we were when you came home.
You have a son you haven’t seen
In nearly 13 years.

I hardly ever think of you, but
It isn’t fair that we had a child
And you went away for a year
That stretched to years of tears.

Don’t you wonder what he looks like?

I can’t believe you’re the one I wrote
all those poems for
So very long ago.