Walk With Me  
                          Quynh P. Nguyen  
         Up the trail, in silence we walk,
         Let the bright heliconia and pale heather do the talk,
         Under the stately trees,
         fanned by a gentle breeze.
         Let the roaring sound of the lawn mower
         rise, then fade away reluctantly
         to the soft alluring flirty
         aria of the sharma thrush.
         Step by step, we are not in a rush.
         Let the sun rise, let the moon glow.
         Let a life time of sorrows
         and pain
         wash away in the rain.

                   Quynh P. Nguyen
  Flesh and blood of my own
How fast you have grown,
Long gone are sleepless nights of ear infections
Teethings and vaccinations.
Now you are poised to fly, leaving the nest empty,
Not a care for comfort and safety.
There always remain memories
Of sweet loving good-night kisses,
Morning rushes to Punahou,
Delightful whale sightings off Makapuu,
The old house with the bougainvilla treillis
The shady backyard mango tree.
My darlings, in your heart bright and pure,
Forever cherish these treasures.


        Please read the rest of the story in REMEMBERING SAIGON.