This old wound
like the sword that pierced Tristram's side
and Siegfried's shoulder
Achilles' heel
It is still there
an echo of the
impaling grief.
I forgot the snapping of the banner
that I was still lying on the field
suddenly remembered --
there it is --
the spear point and
all the arrows
and the ravens circling overhead
The silence of the battle
pierced by the echo of the last ringing sword