Crutches

Now we are less perfect,
half the world with missing limbs.
War has reversed evolution --
like a mountain stream turned
against itself, bodies in braces, brief lives.

I have seen three wars already,
my father five.
Half the world is hobbled,
steel arms and legs
locked onto flesh.

Once at a party,
I shook the hand
of a man with one hand--
I tried but couldn't imagine
what it felt like for him
when the world exploded.

Sometimes in the cathedral
when I am sitting alone,
I put my two hands together
for those who cannot
and because I still can, I kneel.