Every Man

I live in every man's struggles. I lose myself in the crowd; Everyone has a story of loss, Of a childhood that ended abruptly, Transmogrified into juvenile gods, Worshipping, genuflecting, reacting, Pale with the anguish of bent backs. And every man lives in me, As I in him, today and yesterday; Ancestors and inheritors, possessors, Crossing oceans, discovering realms, Absorbing losses, sensing kinship In the spurting blood of the enemy, Enemy men, who say goodbye forever To the children and mothers left behind. I see myself in every man, even the enemy; In the war cry, the final guttural effort To resist the pale-faced smallpox carrier.