Friends

"Why, what an ass am I."

This one line from Hamlet's soliloquy, communicates, to me and me alone, a sea of meaning in its mundane conciseness.

 I've taken shelter in the trenches, held my head down as long as I possibly could muster the courage in perpetual fear of threatening advance. 

I've even held my breath while sitting in the fresh breeze, among flowers and freshly-mowed grass.

I never felt my brother as he lay down beside me in the heat of battle, defending himself from the same onslaught that awaited us both.

I never felt the breeze, springing forth and nurturing life before my very eyes, as I've sat ruminating ostensibly about the perils that the bright, new day would afford. 

Waiting for enemies blinds me to the many friends I make along the way.

Yet, there I see the enemy. He has come again. 

Why, what an ass am I.