086.365 - report from the front

in the evening, the old man walks
when he reaches the broken sidewalk
he reaches into his jacket
pulls out his cane and stretches it
locks the pieces into place
and picks his way across the rubble
when he reaches the smooth again
he stops and disassembles his cane
tucks it away inside his jacket
a weapon in his war against nature
the same war that broke up the sidewalk
but his the other side, stretching life
beyond its short intent, turning air
and food and water into blood and bile
into the other necessities of life
and when he occasionally stops
to yearn after a young woman
walking with a sack of groceries perhaps
that look is a gift to both of them
and for a moment, the war holds its fire