Leaving the Corps at twenty
I could have gone back
Or into college or law
Enforcement. What did
I know but the Corps’ training?
Looking back I would
Not have been the same.
Later on I was willing enough
To fight but not as before –
Retired at thirty-five
Or forty but less preparation
For introspection and worry
Better liked perhaps but dull.
My knife plunged into some
Old dried wood. Its handle
Of Osage orange bright
And well-cared for
Amidst the dried
Wreck of a tree,
Those parts of me.
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