Map of Vietnam on wall,
Lie on bed,
Look at it,
Too tired,
Just get boots off.
Map was old,
A marvel,
Left for years,
Made in Paris.
Paper buckled in the wet heat,
Laying a veil over countries depicted.
Vietnam separated into older territories.
That’s old, that’s a really old map.
Maps didn’t reveal much,
Reading them was like trying to read the wind.
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