A friend of mine runs this site for her local chapter of Rolling Thunder.

Hello, Michael, It's Me

Hello, Micahel, it's me
It's been a long time since I saw you last
In your uniform as you proudly marched past
M-16 on your shoulder, eyes straight ahead
As you paraded down the pavement gallant and calm
To the dark sweltering jungles of Vietnam
So many years have gone by, are you alive or are you dead?

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your young son, John, is a man fully grown
Married with two wonderful sons of his own
He looks and sounds just like his dear father
From the twinkle in his eyes to his lopsided grin
From the brown in his hair to the red on his chin
The very strides he takes holds your spirt together

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your photograph is faded, weathered and worn
Happily holding the baby, when Johnny was born
Stands on a dark table stained with growing years
And your letters sit folded on my dancing breast
The words blotched and wrinkled, pages torn at the crease
Spotted with the salt drying from my tears

Hello, Michael, it's me
The christmas lights dance in the window red and green
Your unopened presents sit beneath the shining tree
Can you feel the laughter in the children's joyous call
As we saunter down the pathways frozen and bare
Bearing roses through the cold snow spotted air
To find your name forever etched into a granite wall?

Goodbye, Michael, merry Christmas.
Please come home soon.

nathan tompkins