He

He
Had no quarrel with life.
But when it was time
For young men to go to war
He joined the parade.

Vietnam is a far cry from Indiana.
(A nice place to visit
But I wouldn’t want to die there.)

He
Was only a name.
No boy belongs
To that name
Anymore.

He
Was the first boy
Who ever kissed me.
We were twelve, I think.
My neighbor saw us
But never told our mothers.

Later that summer,
He wrote me a love letter
And spelled my name
Wrong.

He
Was simple and uncomplicated.
And then he joined the war parade.
He killed three men.

But once
I watched
him climb
a rain spout
to save
a sparrow.

He
Was only a name.
No boy belongs to that name
Anymore.