My father’s mind and a amazing Mary Gauthier song.
If you live by the gun, you will die by the gun. Do corpses talk? My father asked me a few time when the rum was aplenty. Who will be left? When the soldier come home and there is no-one to kill. My father killed many in Vietnam and the Korean war. The whiskey and the rum couldn’t stop the images left of the dead men he killed.
He told me. The corpses cannot talk but his friends left behind. They sit with me late into the night and we drink. He told me when I was young. Son, I awoke in Korea war in 1952 and the China soldier cut my friend throat and he left me alive. I learn, death was always near. They could kill me at-will and I didn’t sleep right for six months. Son, I ain’t right and I am sorry.
Today war is alive and well. Where are the peace-makers? What are the children seeing? What are the children learning? What are we teaching our children?
My father is with his friends. At the soldier table now and I followed his path. I remember when I was leaving for war. I saw tears in my father’s eyes. I hope one day to join my father at the Soldier table. Hear his laughter again.
Coyote
❤️❤️❤️🙏
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