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ANNAPOLIS When I think of the old sun on Stribling WaIk me new as spray paint with aII the yawls on the Severn behind me tacking with midshipmen in crew cuts leaping to the commands of newly graduated ensigns what comes down is that same sun oafish and furry sun with breath like Crest while we waited for taps and the last slapping footsteps of the midshipman officer of the watch. Sound drowned in the Rotunda he was gone soon enough until at z ewr the drips in the heads and tlee faucets terse song shrunk into how young we were alone after studies were over stealing out in favorite dirty gym gear to the place called the Ho Chi Minh Trail steam path below the snowr Soviet world. 45