January 8, 2005

Dear President George W. Bush:

You may remember me whom you shook hands at The Vietnam Veterans Memorial in the quiet morning of Veterans Day 2002. You laid your offering at the V-shaped jet black granite wall. I gave you and America my heartfelt love and gratitude for the Freedom and Liberty in which we live. I am now proud to be an American who once was a teenage refugee from Vietnam.

Here is my poem to you and this great country of ours:

The Fahrenheit Hollywood Muckraker 

The Tsunami, a day after Christmas, 2004, came and departed 
Its footprints left to convey a message 
No one knows for sure 
A worldly heaven suddenly turned wreckage 

My adopted country sent her sons and daughters 
To the shattered islands of the south Asia regions 
Americans and their battle ships, helicopters appeared like a Knight 
Their human love for all, regardless of religions 

The nature's catastrophe crawls into my sleep 
The images of fragility of life on Earth 
I woke up in the darkness of the night 
I saw myself: a struggling journey from birth 

I've come a long way since the fall of Saigon 
My soul has come to deeply appreciate America's liberty 
My gratitude cries out the names of her fallen soldiers 
My American dream is the very breath of democracy 

An American freedom fighter was killed in Iraq 
His eyes closed, tears rolling on his face 
His hands open, letting go of his love for the land 
His body lies straight in warrior's grace 

Somewhere in the Tsunami destructive zones 
A wealthy film producer who traveled from Hollywood 
His body curled, seeming to hold onto regrets 
His hands clenched; a glamorous life is now understood... 

Linh Duy Vo 
January 8, 2005


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