The veteran sits like an ancient statue at noon
under the Ponderosas, white and fragmentary.
His war is lifetimes past. His caretakers roll him and leave him
in the park. Today they have him surrounded
By small airplanes. What does he not remember
about dismemberment? Now, one by one he launches them
Into the desert air, leaning forward in the motorized
wheelchair, looking up toward clouds where they drone
Unmanned, blazing down destruction on hostile firmament.