He told us that the thick scar on his thigh
was from shrapnel
a piece that tore through the meat of his body
from one of the few times he saw
battle.
Stationed in Normandy
my grandfather spent the war
in the company of French wine and cheese.
With a scar
that ran jagged,
pinched skin
pink and clumsy looking.
We learned later
that it was from polio.
Where bone had been inserted.
The incision pulled
and folded over itself.
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