A Tale of Water

I was afraid of it then
The water
I would jump in the
shallow end of the pool
standing straight up
as if on a pogo stick
My feet planting on the
bottom while my head
stayed above
until once it didn’t
My feet shooting from under me
trying to grab air with my hands
certain I would drown until my
mother pulled me up
The Navy later cured me
of my reticence
and now I fear it anew
Not for the lack of air
but for the memories there
waiting in the deep

Vigilance (PTSD)

I am the very soul of perhaps
There must always be an out
Ever wary of ambush, some trap
Escape must never be in doubt

These are things one learns in war
and around violent kitchen tables
Head on a swivel, eye on the door
where peace is naught but fable

A child is born – a warrior made
Innocence does not suit the field
A determined heart and well-honed blade
for those who would harm to feel