Warrior

he sits
across from
me on the train
his
face like
rubber or
a uniform
wearing
thin
maybe
he has come
from war I
want to
ask
which one but
scar tissue forms
around his mouth and
dark glasses
hide his
eyes .
he tells me
he sees flags
now
where roses once were
his suitcase is
filled with
rotting teeth
I watch as
he rolls his
tongue
across his
lips like a song
he can't remember.
maybe he
mistakes me for
another
as he clutches
his bottle of
wine maybe
he is convinced
he is
going
home.
I try to
tell him
this is
his war but
he doesn't
believe me.





By: Jayne Lyn Stahl