Endless July Afternoon

July slowly passed through the veteran's silver hair, he sat quietly by the cemetery, where his friends had been resting for decades. The wind blew in the afternoon, it seemed like everything was drifting back to the days of bombs and bullets, the vast space before him was the image of the battlefield, the dead, the living, the pain. He sat motionless, silently counting each memory, each month and year together on that heroic battlefield. Then, walking slowly, he went to each grave, lit a few incense sticks for his friends, remembering the day he left without a word of farewell.

Today, the country is green on all sides, having gone through long resistance wars, green shoots have sprouted, generations of young people are enthusiastically setting out to build their homeland and country. Now a new era has begun when provinces and cities are merged…

July has come, spreading the faint rays of sunlight on the squash trellis, the lazy cat bends its body, slowly walking into the kitchen. On the porch, the chicks happily run after their mother, the chirping sound echoes throughout the large space. These days, people often mention the memories, comrades and sacrifices, losses of the previous generation. That is also a way for the young generation to be proud of Vietnam, through the ups and downs of history, the ancestors have always been pine trees, cypress trees fighting for the Fatherland to have a Vietnamese appearance.

July, the month of gratitude, although the weather has many changes, every afternoon the old forest in front of us rustles in the wind, the clear colors of the summer months are replaced by the gloomy rain, but the footsteps of young people are still bustling out there, preparing for trips back to the source, to find the red address. The long car trips along the national highway, everywhere you can see the green shirts of volunteers, the white shirts of students. Everyone wants to hear, to see, to witness with their own eyes the places where the brothers, the uncles, the gentlemen... have gone through the long resistance wars. To appreciate more the sacred land imprinted with thousands of years of history, everywhere there is the sky of the homeland, the country.

In the cemetery of his hometown, incense smoke lingered with the sounds of July days, as if someone had returned to a familiar place, welcoming the new beginnings on the vast road. I saw the veteran slowly walking past the graves, his hands caressing each letter, his eyes leaving many memories on each tombstone. Those who remained would never forget the days that had passed.

The windy July afternoon…

Swiss

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202507/mien-man-chieu-thang-bay-d3b26d7/