From The Flag Is Up Ranch

(To Queen Elizabeth and the spirit of my idol poet Emily Dickinson in honor of Monty Roberts)


How do I say Thank You?

To your world of Love

Your larger-than-life heart, mind and soul,

Gracious as the aura of a Mustang named Shy Boy

Kind-hearted as your human-like horses,

Caressing the green pastures called Monty Roberts “farm;”

It’s a reminiscence of another Farm called Stanford,

Where my heart has been left as a blessed STNFDAD

As it’s read on my car license plate.

How do I say Thank You?

To the home of healing,

To the great horse sculptor called Pat Roberts

To the classy lady named Deborah

To the gentleman I call Uncle Monty

Who said “I want to adopt this boy,”

“Yes, you may call me Uncle from now.”

How do I say Thank You?

On behalf of many an American veteran

From the killing field in Iraq, Afghanistan

From an unforgettable war called Viet Nam

From the melancholy voices on the jet black granite Wall

From America's Sons and Daughters

Who spent a powerful healing weekend

Witnessing your humanity flow,

Washing away the pains in these Americans

Who have served our country with Honor, Duty.

How do I say Thank You…


Linh Duy Vo

11 Dec 2011©



PTSD therapy and process of healing

American veterans from Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan...

Photo of 2011


Born to heal others

Whispering to the horses

Proud of you, Monty…


Linh Duy Vo 

20 May 2012 ©

(The Haiku was read to Uncle Monty and the American veterans)


To my Father...

Your stark black and white portrait seems to look at me wherever I move. Your eyes seem to affirm that your soul is resting in peace...

The Vietnam War was a long long time ago, but its history never seems to get old. It's like yesterday. I am now living in America whose sons and daughters had fought and died for freedom, 58,000-plus. The freedom that was being eaten up by the Communists from the Soviet Unions, China and North Vietnam. The war started when I was born. You and Mom were predestined to live within it and I being raised. 

Growing up in the war was living in a hell of fears, day in and day out.
You shared with me how particular in your choosing a name for me. It took you a long time to think of it, not like the names you had picked fast for my siblings. My name Linh means "spirit."

And Spirit it was. My personality is not the same as my brothers' and sisters'. And you were my fan. You understood me. You talked to me so spiritually but not to them... One of many things you were compassionate of that has shadowed me is your love of reading poetry. When the whole family was asleep, on the hammock you were reading the book of poetry with the faint light from the incense sticks scrolling each word in the dark. 

An unforgettable event was that you went about our poor fishing village and collected the wandering children and brought them home to teach and to feed them while Mom was apposing it. Luckily, our family was helped by grandparents' fortune lied in their fruitful rice paddies.

You were so loved by the students and their parents as you were a dedicated teacher at the village's elementary school.
The things you had taught me I passed onto my three children. They all revolve about the spirit of love and gratitude...

Thank you Dad. And rest in peace always.

Linh Duy Vo 

August 2012

Linh Vo: Walking, talking Vietnam memorial


        My Father, Lang Van Vo




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