One March afternoon in 1969 I was on the deck of a Chinese junk listening to the water clop against the wooden hull and enjoying a breeze that blew toward the South China Sea. The junk bobbed ...  [+]

I ignored him until he throttled down. That was not normal.

It was a pleasant night, but an hour after curfew. City lights from Saigon to the east turned the dark a velvety purple, and the sweet ...  [+]

I have seen you, shell-shocked city,
Shimmer in the parachute flares
The day's dust and exhaust ...  [+]

I wedge myself between the Hondas,
Giving up my place to him,
Moving slowly and with help.
Pant ...  [+]