The Spoils of War

Accident-

When you see one who once long hated you, still does-
and only helps you out of legal obligation 

 quid pro quo-
not of goodness, or swelling heart.

now in torment themselves- broken

injured, sick, staph infected,weak..

bones removed,

 though he can still make a fist.
Is it my mercy that makes him now  meek?  Which is truth, which part?

I never fought back with cast iron pan-

but  baked him cakes with marzipan.

So-is my help kindness or guilt?

To those who would throw stones:

I say ” aim for the head”-it is quicker

though no matter how tall,

the small always aim for the heart.
Is it is true charity or will I not admit
something darker?

Is seeing him suffer its own reward?
and if it is and he can tell-
Then…How is it

I am the only one now trusted?

the only one they will deal with

in this abject, humiliating state?

Does it mean that they are so hated

and perhaps deservingly so-
that no one else can or will help them,

that they don’t trust even their  ‘friends’?

What history will not forgive, it will transcend.

Was it because
his definition/behavior of real ‘hate’
was more constant, sharper ,and narrower

than mine ever was?

Could it be..

He loves the world and all it contains

 food, money, power

– hates only me?

So I cut up his food, drive him, and make up his bed

put aside the fact he wishes I were dead.

There’s no resentment in my face-

 a  blood bond brings monastic grace.

Perhaps all of these things are true.

I don’t need reasons or reward

that don’t matter anymore.

They still ask why.
I helped him because I chose to.

Because it was right.

Because  I pitied him then.

 because he is my child’s father- 

it was all that was left

that I could do.

That was reason enough.