Toughness, bedbound
Shockflattened.
Still at war.

For one instant the enemy a hidden stranger
unleashing from the clearing's edge
rocket-borne disaster to the hovering craft;

Now the enemy
crushed feet cast in white plaster
tortured frame rebelling with each command to move.

No, deny it, fight
the past tense whispers
talk of long recuperation
sheets' subversive invitation to relax.

No, goddam it
fight the deeper pain
lost command, aborted destiny;

A life, like a book
suddenly tiresome to an unknown reader
slammed shut.

Broken, bandaged body, pain raw
fighting the embrace of pillow and sheet
Infantry commander, eyes moist
against all resistance a tear
conquers stubbled cheek.

Published in Wesley Journal, Washington, D.C., November, 1968