by David Dresner
“Are you hurt badly?” Sherman asked me at the Creek.
Mother, I can even remember your breasts.
“I was ordered to take those works, Sir.”
Father, I lost your watch along the way.
“I’ve got a little job for you,” I told the good doctor.
“Cut that leg off.”
Sister, you were our mother after she flew away.
“They were going to the front for glory
and I was going to the rear disabled.”
Brother, I will be your father after he is gone.
“Then I cried like a child – yes, like a child!”
God, you take more than you give.