"the stump" written on 10/05/2017

the stump
 
young boy
fragments of memory
 
some shards of glass
some fuzzy
some fluffy
 
warm room after a cold, wet day
hiking with the troop
 
where will everyone sleep?
men on the beds
boys on the floor
 
one man
the leader beside me takes his boots off
his left leg has no foot
 
he says it was lost
on a hot steamy jungle trail far away
the stump, smooth and pointed
like a phillips screwdriver bit
 
I roll over
It is hard, uncomfortable
down here
with no mattress to 
cushion my hips
i drift into sleep
the stump present in my mind