Seabags In The Rain

Carl | July 5, 2012 

When clouds are gray and lowering
And fog obscures the plain,
I sometimes think I catch a sight
Of seabags in the rain.

I know it is a vision
Too ethereal to last,
But it brings a wisp of sadness
And a haunting from the past.

We had come ashore at Inchon
In Nineteen Fifty-Two—
An administrative landing,
Just a unit passing through.

We were mustered at the railhead,
Lining up to board a train,
When through the stormy darkness
I saw seabags in the rain.

There was no need to question
Why they were lying there
Looking lonely and abandoned
In the damp Korean air.

Their owners had gone northward
And would not return again
From where hills of bitter battle
Took the lives of fighting men.

Now when fog and darkness gather,
I rarely can restrain
My saddened thoughts of Inchon
And seabags in the rain.
Sgt. Robert Gannon

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