THE GIFT OF THE CURSE
once upon a weapon
now upon a pen
he fought beside the others
as brother and as friend
it hurts him to remember
those lost in tracers' light
it heals him to remember
with pen in hand; to write
evacuating casualties
uncertain of their fate
evaporating memories
committed now to slate
boots of many brothers
no longer do they tread
in waking and in dreaming
these boots march in his head
cursed with recollection
so vivid, always there
gifted by the grace of God
the memories to share