The description in this poem is lovely. Here is a partial republication of the poem.
Poem of the Day: Veterans of the Seventies
BY MARVIN BELL
His army jacket bore the white rectangle
of one who has torn off his name. He sat mute
at the round table where the trip-wire veterans
ate breakfast. They were foxhole buddies
who went stateside without leaving the war.
They had the look of men who held their breath
and now their tongues. What is to say
beyond that said by the fathers who bent lower
and lower as the war went on...