Peace

Peace comes at last,
stumbles through the dark,
grasps at the porch light,
settles on the glider
and there escapes
the youthful excitement
that ignites fireflies
over in the pasture,
before going inside
to wash at the basin,
then to bed and sleep.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Compromised

Among the rocky patches
unexploded cluster bomblets
and landmines
fracture and fragment
playful children
and leave ribbons
of twisted carnage
years after the combatants
ceased hostilities
and embraced in peace.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

Warriors

I painted my enemies’ feet
my favorite shade of blue.
The blue harkened to the Celts and Scots of yore.
Pantone three-o-one-five-C.

This act earned me a swift kick.
Painting my enemies’ feet blue
was meant to immobilize them
so I could speak to them without fear.

I feared they would attack.
I feared they would run away.
I should have picked red.
Stop sign red.

My goal was to build a foundation of trust
so we could set down our weapons.
We had many weapons.
Every imaginable type of weapon.

We even turned tools into weapons.
I suggested we turn them back into tools.
They feared my fire was
part of a smoke and mirror scheme.

It was really passion, but they knew passion
mostly through their hatred.
I talked to them until they were blue in the face.
I mean, I took up all the oxygen in the room.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney