Michael Lester
That Ship Set Sail
After basic training, the brass puts us on casual status. Nothing to do but wait until we get orders for our permanent assignments, save some odd job as part-time PT instructors. The orders from the Base Commander assign us to language school in Monterey, California. I ask for Russian, but they assign me to the Mandarin class instead.
After graduation comes radio school, where we learn how to operate short-wave radio equipment and listen to taped broadcasts, including the shootdown of an American fighter jet by an exhilarated Chinese pilot. Then, they ship us to Taiwan for our first real assignment as Voice Intercept Processing Specialists.
My best friend since basic training and I make a pact. Let’s not go to bars to meet women—let’s go to schools, libraries, and museums to meet cultured, educated women, women of the arts. We will marry the best of them and stay friends forever. A blood pact.
the sunset
casts a brilliant crimson
over Sun Moon Bay
we watch the sailboats
drift lazily to and fro
About the Author
Michael H. Lester resides in Los Angeles, California, with his wife, Risa, and his mini-goldendoodle, Harley. He is a CPA and a lawyer working in business management. He spends his free time gardening, reading, cooking, and writing children’s books, novels, short stories, and poetry.
I really enjoyed this one. The sureness of the dream articulated in the last prose block compliments the yūgen in the tanka—which seems to call the entire poem into question. That is very difficult to pull off and is done masterfully here.