slow retreat

I asked him
if he was scared.
Sometimes, he said.
He could feel
his body growing roots
and going back into the earth.
That part wasn't scary.
It was that it happened
so slowly,
and he had to watch his wife's
big, round, scared eyes
pity him.
His shame had long since
gone down the drain
while the big, German nurse
dried his body
and dressed him
like a ragdoll.
Even his sons' eyes were different.
That was the scary part.
Watching them realize
they were gonna have to
find a new hero.