Wounds

They cut away

though you knew not what.

A limb removed

but you felt no loss.

Unconscious to their touch it seemed

a little less of you redeemed.

Pray, do not wake for another day,

but sleep assured without the pain.

And never know the sight you were

as the earth received your sacrifice,

and drank

The river red spilling from your veins.

See not the pity or the shame

when you gaze upon your claim to fame.

Know that the crippled body be

the one true testament of your love for thee.

****

This was written for a friend of mine. If it's not obvious, he was a soldier

wounded in Iraq. He survived, but paid the price with the loss of a leg

and multiple scars covering his body. This was my first reaction when

I heard the news from home. I was taking a poetry class and was working

on my next one to present when I got the phone call. It's old -- I think I

wrote it back in 2005. I found it in my old files from school. It still brings

back sober memories.