An Old Poem, Peace

I’ve found this old poem today as I anticipate my birthday.  I’m grateful for the inspiration and opportunities this past year has brought and look forward to many more literary creations to come. Despite opening this post with an old poem, simply entitled Peace, which I want most for the world in the upcoming year, I know this past year was the one that taught me to embrace writing without turning back.




Peace is to silence

the underscore of bile,

iron-clawed, climbing jaws

on fire from the gut

beneath two volcanic dunes

drumming each other out.


There lies the company

of sodding irons

melting at the core.


The morning’s cool

drink of water from the faucet

restores then evaporates

a gallon of salted streams

that become still

and unnecessary while


the peace of love ferments.









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