They are always legion, because a man can fend off
one or two, but three thousand (plus cavalry) are more
than anyone can manage. Of course he thought

he was alone, because who can smell
fresh-baked cookies for all that sulfur, or feel
the snuffle of a wet nose on numbed skin, or taste
the grace of meatloaf with a mouth full of bile? Who can hear
a favorite song playing through infernal static, or see
the porch light left on beyond a wall of flames?

So he found his own way out, the lone way, and left us
stunned by the echoes of his going.