Apples

He was finishing lunch
when the Beast approached
and leaned in like a tornado
to take him.

He looked into the face
of threat
and then calmly used his pocketknife
to slit his own throat,

letting the green apple
fall from his hand,
its peelings trailing from it
like battle flags.

No suicide — a warrior
who denied the enemy his prize.
A man doing his best
when there was no hope:

sometimes retreat
is the best part
of a broken life.  How
do you like them apples?