Memory

Ngoi but toi la gio
Trai tim toi la may.
My pen is the wind 
My heart is the cloud.

The Helicopter pilot warmly asked me to jot down a few words in Vietnamese, the musical language he had heard while he was a freedom fighter in the Vietnam War. Now, the 4th of July 2001, three decades later, at the 18th reunion of the Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association, his Vietnam memories still lingered. 

The Colorado River echoed in my heart. The Rocky Mountains seemed to lift my soul. I penned down my inspiration, next to my autograph for the papa-san in my books of poetry "Dear Daddy" and "To America, Love and Gratitude": 

Ngoi but toi la gio
Trai tim toi la may.
My pen is the wind
My heart is the cloud.

Linh D. Vo
July 2001

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