Sweat, droplets of confusion and terror down his ghostly face.
Legs, shaking uncontrollably, moving faster
and faster as he sees dark shadows dance around
his peripheral vision.

Hands, cupping his ears from the obnoxious panging
of the bullets hitting building after building.
Voice, unable to conform words, shrieks and grunts
make their way out of his trembling throat.

Walking down the street,
he looks like a deranged dog, unable to care for himself.
Death and Danger stop short inside his ribcage.
Nobody knew what was under his civilian uniform.

Tears, streams of hurt and terror shine her face.
Arms, wrapped tightly around her stiff legs
and her knees become salty and drenched
as she buries each eye into each bump.

Brain, pushing on her flight instinct,
she calls her husband, the Madman.
She is stubborn. She stays to make sure the alcohol
and the PTSD do not proceed to the car.

Asleep, the deranged dog and the fearful wife
find peace in the soft waves as the soft melodic ocean
tunes sprint quickly into their ears as the shifts of water
remind them that the nightmare is only Temporary.