The Dusk of Day's Remains, sonnet Options

[heartsong7]

The Dusk of Day’s Remains

His coming home alive was only half
the battle. Acting like he cared at all
for anyone or thing, to simply laugh,
was hell. Awakened, crouching in the hall,
not knowing where he was or why he should
survive, he raised the gun, and felt the scar
where once had been a cheek; then slowly stood.

By morning he'd retrieved his old guitar,
a scratched-up, string-less wreck he vowed to save.
I watched him recreate an instrument.
As countless hours of renovations gave
him purpose, he was peaceful and content.
He strummed his own renditions. Those refrains
still echo in the dusk of day's remains.

[heartsong7]

Hi Merle,
My husband was in Vietnam too... in '71.
Fortunately, he was an Air Force OSI investigator and was not in the midst of the fighting most of the time (except for a few bombings of the base) He does have some frightening memories but nothing as debilitating as many others who returned from that war and those since.
This poem is about a fictional character but does incorporate a real scenerio of a friend's experience. He would wake up often at night reliving an experience and once was found by his wife crouching in the hall with a gun as if the enemy were around the corner. Something woke him and he realized how dangerous the situation was becoming and that he needed help (which he got) His resolve to fix up an old instrument played a big part in his recovery.
I appreciate your encouraging words.
Thank you,
Sue

Hey DB,
Wow! you're crit abilities are still going strong even if you haven't exercised them much lately.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and impressions on this one. You give me much to ponder, which I will do... but it may be awhile before I can get to any serious revising... Grandbaby is coming for a nice long visit and time for poetry will be set aside for now.
Hope all is well with you and your lovely family.
Sue