Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt challenged me to write a poem about a road not taken and what might have happened if I had made a different choice. A poem about having to stay behind after an injury forced me to pursue a different occupation in the military.
Historian of Brothers
I, and my brothers, training for war,
Guts chiseled from raw will;
Each pushing the other towards valor,
Daring me to rise to the chore
Of tallying up the butcher’s bill;
In turn, we each learned to fend
And drive into the chatter of gnashing teeth;
I would have been there until the end
Save for the angels that did descend
Stealing my sword from its very sheath;
My brothers leapt across the sea
Leaving me in broken despair;
A shattered weapon snapped at the knee,
Chronicling their exploits as their only trustee
And never the guardian of their welfare;
From a wound that never fully healed,
I, the historian, now stands alone;
My brothers returned on fallen shields
Now replaced by stone markers in green fields,
With I, the only one to remember them home.
#napowrimo #napowrimo21 #napowrimo2021
Photo by Selena Morar on Unsplash
