A Memory Past

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A Memory Past

By: Garland Davis

I awaken each morning and somehow remember less

From the ships’ names to the blue uniform called dress.

The moments of the past just barely linger,

I try to grasp them but the memories evade my clutching fingers.

 

Small flashbacks from Taipei long ago,

But they fade to Subic or was it Hong Kong as the days go.

A man came today and brought a suitcase with him,

He filled it from my closet, filled it to the brim.

 

I could see the sadness in his eyes as I asked where we were going,

He wrapped me in his embrace, and said, “Shipmate” as the tears were flowing.

I don’t know this person, I wanted to scream,

“Who is this stranger?” I ask myself as sanity seems to sunder at the seam.

 

The sad man led me to the car with a suitcase in his hand.

His cheeks were wet, so were mine. The moment hard to understand.

We were at a large building and he led me inside.

People in white and blue came to get me. I wanted to run and hide

 

They asked questions, pictures and images came in blurs.

A lady stepped up and took my hand gently in hers.

She led me to a chair and placed a blue band on my wrist.

A man stared at me, wet face, eyes transfixed.

 

They asked my name, but I don’t know you see.

The writing on the band says Chief Petty Officer.

Now I remember, that is me.

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