I just took some cold medicine.... I can go at anytime. But tonight I went to Maj Ragain's Veteran's workshop tonight and my toes are still buzzing. This feeling of spirit, a unity of souls that split open something real. Something very human. A man about to embark back to Viet Nam, hold onto a long stick like his brother, talking about when he lost his faith in humanity... when he realized war means fighting with humans. Brothers, husbands, fathers, mothers, sisters daughters. Killing a man then looking at the dead man's wife. Shooting a man and looking in his eyes while he died. It was never more real than today. We began with a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye that I wish we would have read at the end. I will post it tomorrow. This cold medicine in pushing to my fingers. I pray Tom and Gabz and Laura find pieces of their soul... inside the dirt of Viet Nam.
The sun touches everywhere
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