HALF-HEARTED

I have received,

A scratched tin box, with a worn leather lid.

Inside

Lay mildewed yellowed papers

announcing my call to battle.

 

In the days before

You leave

I reacquaint myself with the city-

See upended graves and

Work to gently

Reform the dirt, pat it. Make crosses out of sticks.

Now I lay my head to rest.

 

I am

So wrecked

Still, bones are splintered, and major muscles are not  functioning

Properly.

But I have received

The call to action

 

You sent it.

You knew, I could never be a deserter,

I could never just watch this battle

This fight

These swords clash

And cannons fire.

I believe too fully in the cause. I may lose every limb in this war,

But I believe in it.

 

The summer is dwindling.

My respite has come to end.

You have sent me

A letter of  orders

And I see your power,

Still has a firm grasp on me.

Even through this impenetrable distance.

Soon.

Soon.

Soon I will prepare to leave.

I will head out to battle.

 

After you leave.

But you, have taken a small, velvet souvenir of me.

Perhaps unwittingly.

 

Even so,  as a result,

I will be fighting

Only half-heartedly.