The reason why the villagers cried out
Was not that he looked strange
But looked familiar

Pieced together as he was from graves
Of those who died so recently, too soon
For time to smooth away the edge of grief

A woman saw her lover’s face
The lips that kissed her in the heat of passion
And groaned apology with their last breath

A girl saw the arms of soldier brothers, right and left,
That swung her, beloved sister, in between
Before leaving for their final battle

A son saw his father’s knees, the favored seat
To listen to the passed-down stories
And the grandson’s, too, for that short time they had

Did he realize?
They never saw a monster
But a memory