Springsteen sings of The Wall
In memory of a country’s losses
And of his young heroes
But for me an image returns
Of my father, walking there
Half a lifetime ago,
Beside the mirroring stone
With its fringe of offerings,
What was he thinking?
A foreigner who had seen a different war.
I was too much a (twenty-something) child to ask.
Last offspring of aging parents,
How much I failed to ask,
Failed to imagine soon enough
That they were more than that,
More than the walls and windows of my home.
(It is so long ago
I did not know there were still tears to shed.)