What He Doesn'T Know Is

At 91 I’m sitting here...waiting for my nurse...reminiscing August 9th of 1945, Peering through my tears, again, knowing that, today, very few of those who were involved are still alive. The man I share my room with has a lot of trouble sleeping, and when he fin’ly dozes off, I do my very best Not to - even slightly, interfere...I make no noise…‘cause, like myself, he’s fairly weak, and needs a lot of rest. Both of us each other’s only friend...our fam’lies gone...no one popping in from time to time to just say, “Hi.”... Wisely never entertain events demanding ‘days’, merely - reminiscing - as we calmly wait to die! On April 23rd of 1920, I was born...while Mr. Nagasaki came to be in ‘24... And 90-plus years later we’ve ironically wound up - ‘calmly waiting’ - side-by-side… same nursing home...same floor... Only to discover that we’ve several kindred views. Like - when it came to tactics in the war of ‘45, Both of us believe that countless died that never should have, and share, alike, a sense of guilt that we are still alive. And, while agreeing, in the end, what had been accomplished - crushing Hitler’s evil - was a cause worth dying for - We see the use of nuclear weapons - which the Allies did - an inexcusable, unforgivable means to win the war. But I don’t have the strength, or guts, to tell him all he lost - most his fam’ly...many friends...and 60 years of pain - Was, in part, because of me, ‘cause...what he doesn’t know is...I’m the tortured, nightmare-haunted-soul that flew the plane!