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In Seattle, almost 9:00 PM
after bedtime
for little girls
not quite fully dark.
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In DaNang, noon
the next day. |
On the moon . . .
day.
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In Seattle, Mom and Dad
watched on their TV
4-year-old Shelley,
pleased at the chance to stay up late,
snug in Mom's lap.
Janice, bored with waiting
read her book.
Front and back doors
propped open to catch
the breeze
off Salmon bay.
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In DaNang, 8
guerrillas crept
quietly to a make
shift platform near
Marble Mountain
and aimed their launcher at the air
base for a foolhardy
daylight
attack on the
expected in-bound
plane.
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On the moon, one man
stepped from a small
metal craft
bounced lightly on the
ladder, and out onto
the dusty ground.
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Later, as Dad carried
his sleeping daughter
up to bed
as Mom closed the doors
and made a pitcher
of iced tea,
as Janice returned
to her book,
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as the man on the moon
returned to his lander
for rest, water, food,
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a squad of Marines
found the guerillas
foolish enough to
fire rockets in
daylight and shot
them all.
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A Continental Airlines 707
which had been circling
for 2 hours above the airstrip
waiting for the shelling
to stop,
landed.
163 American servicemen,
Commander Betsy Jackson
and I filed
down the ladder.
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