He Took His Wound at Harry's

[couchgrouch]

He Took His Wound at Harry'sSam'd been a sergeant, back in Vietnamhe slurred a diff'rent story, with ev'ry shot he slammedso Harry heard of jungles, how midnight cannons flashedhow Sam came back healthy, yeah..without a scratchbut he took his wound at Harry'sand that wound...it never healedcos shrapnel cuts the sharpestwhen scars remain concealedhe talked of Joe in Khe Sahn, how if he'd kept his helmet onhe might not have lost that earbut each night in that deathtrap, Joe's helmet covered his lapcos he'd rather make love than hearwell, Harry just watched and poured, cos old Sam had fought a warand now he couldn't fight a tearcos he took his wound at Harry'sand that wound...it never healedcos shrapnel cuts the sharpestwhen scars remain concealedSam heard a rumor that Joe, died without a centhis landlord hocked his medal, to make up his back rentbut Sam's final foxhole, was that cold, dark boothwhiskeys slid in like daggers, deep and fast and smoothand he took his wound at Harry'sand that wound...it never healedcos shrapnel cuts the sharpestwhen scars remain concealedwell, Sam crossed no-man's-land, a shot glass in his handlate one night in that lonely barHarry searched hockshops downtown, and for fifty bucks he founda dusty old purple heartand when Sam was laid to rest, Harry pinned it on his chestthen snapped a salute to that old Sargecos he took his wound at Harry'sand that wound...it never healedyeah, shrapnel cuts the sharpestwhen scars remain concealed(c)2006 Robert George