Second Chance

 

I’ve watched the footage countless times

mesmerized by the Focke-Wulf 190

trailing smoke…plummeting…inverted

the fighter mortally wounded by an American P-51

 

having undone his seat harness  

flipped the airplane upside down

with what little control remains 

the pilot shoots free of the cockpit

head first towards Earth

 

the film always cuts to another scene

just before the part

where the parachute fails to open

evoking my fear of heights

 

fascination with all things Third Reich

streets…buildings…faces

a feeling of connectedness

where there should be none

and a not so foreign language

Spreken sie Deutsch?”

“Nein” I reply

compels me to learn again

those distant words

and yet always as close

as another viewing of the film

 

raised Roman Catholic

I was taught not to believe in a second chance

“only one kick at the can”

so the priests did say

and yet late at night…early in the morning

caught in that state of in-between

fragments reassemble…

 

I vaguely recall being in a large hall

surrounded by many judges

me begging to go back and put things right

“He was only defending his homeland,

did not subscribe to Nazi ideology”

retorts my defender in robes of burgundy

 

and then 1957

born…a continent…decade…a history away 

another lifetime to discover who I really am

still haunted by the past…and the next future

long abandoned the warlike persona

known in the years of repeated youth

drawing ever closer to the end again

I work hard at perfecting perfection

unseen forces giving me many opportunities

 

in winter I stop at the community mailboxes

to unexpectedly find a neighbor’s keys

forgotten in the key hole

address easily traced from the number on the box

walking them over at the very moment she arrives 

someone I’ve never met before

worried sick at where she had misplaced them

thanks me with a hug

 

as 60 some years on

though still a pilot in my soul

grounded in penance and contrition

I take comfort

how in acts of kindness such as this

there’s hope for me yet

 

 

© 2007  Chris Sorrenti

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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