Poetry by Lachlan Irvine


(For those Americans still listed as Missing in Action in Vietnam)

I'm missing
The sight of old familiar faces
making me feel at home
The sight of the special face I love
As her eyes reflect my own
I'm missing
The deafening sound of a cheering crowd
At the local football game
The gentle sound of a loving voice
As she's whispering my name
I'm missing
The icy touch of a flake of snow
In a winter world of white
The warming touch of her hand in mine
As I walk her home at night
I'm missing
The taste of a home cooked family meal
That only a mother could make
The heavenly taste of a lover's kiss
That could cause my heart to break
I'm missing
The smell of the steaks as they're sizzling
On a Sunday barbecue
The smell of her perfume in the air
As she whispers "I love you"

When all of these senses start to fade
As in time they are bound to do
The sense that I've not been forgotten
Is the one that will get me through
I'm missing

Lachlan Irvine

For more Vietnam War poems, return to the Vietnam War Poetry Page.

Vietnam War Poetry