- Haunted by his yesterdays,
- I live an ugliness of war
- I never fought.
- Stranger in unfamiliar pickup
- pulls up beside me
- in unfamiliar space,
- befriends me as only kindred do.
- I acknowledge him.
- He parks his truck,
- and we get out to talk.
- He labors over memories
- of the war
- that haunt him still.
- Tells me about his detainment
- as a prisoner
- and the cruelties heaped upon him.
- He needs to talk.
- He is prisoner of his memories.
- Although I listen,
- I cannot set him free.
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