THE OUTSIDER
It is a warm August day in Illinois
Not unpleasant on my cousin's shaded back lawn
Surrounded by family
Many I have not seen in some twenty odd years
It is the first family reunion with my presence in that time
I watch quietly as they mingle
Aunts and uncles, my mother
Sisters, brothers and spouses, their children, my wife and sons
Cousins, some in-laws I have never met
And friends, like Rick
He was my best man at our wedding
Closer than brothers a long time ago
When I came home from Viet Nam
We were no longer close
He was different, or I was
Whichever, we drifted apart
I stand alone on the outer edge
Watching the children at play
Thinking of another time
When I was young
A cousin, Debbie, walks up to me
She tells me with tears in her eyes, thirty years after
How fearful she was when I was in Viet Nam
She tells of how she cried when I came home
I never knew; how could I?
Sweet Debbie, with all her problems was worried about me
A girl whose only wealth she has been able to find in this world
Is the gold she was born with in her heart
She hugs me and I awkwardly part
Staying on the rim of our family's festivities
With my father now gone
I am the last in this group to have seen war
I am different from them
My own blood
I feel it, sense it
And I feel they sense it too
Their laughter seems to come so easily
Their joy is so real
Highs that I am unable to reach
Sadness overcomes me
I am a member of this family, for I share the same name
I am their brother, her son, her husband, their nephew or uncle, father or cousin
Yet I am a different, an outsider
I do not belong here, but then if not here, where?