Test II

I whispered, “I love you”

and then, “Goodbye”

face buried deep

in his warm winter coat.

Snow crunching hoof steps,

trusting, we led him

down to the pines

where I’d whistled in winter.

“Racing’s a business,”

the trainer’s voice echoed.

Earth mixed with snow,

the rifle cracked hard and

his young body fell

onto knees that betrayed.

I shoveled my tears,

leapt out of boyhood,

“A man now,” they said.

I dared not show them.

Test Post

We ran the boat up onto a shoal and into some reeds for cover. They had been taking me upriver to a village where we did outreach. I was the only psychiatrist left in the Delta. It was 1974 and the war was winding down. We never expected to get in a fire fight.

The boat’s skipper and crew went onshore to see if they could help. I set up a triage down below in the main cabin. They just kept bringing down wounded and there wasn't any more room. My field pack didn’t have anywhere near the supplies I needed. I tried to tell the lieutenant but he'd already lost it. He laughed and jumped overboard. They shot him when he tried to climb the bank on the other side of the river.