Do you hear
the crickets call
and see the 
fireflies dance their 
little tails aglow 
blinking like the 
end of your 
cigarette a few 
feet from me 
such is magic 
in the making 
on these the
last summer nights 

Sometimes there is 
nothing to say 
so this morning 
let’s just you 
and I and 
this pot and 
these cups just 
sit here and 
watch in silence 
as both steam
and sun rise 

Now standing 
at the 
shore between 
order and 
chaos I
may dip 
my toes 
carefully into 
the shallows 
of what 
many know 
as life 
but will 
never swim 
preferring rather 
the prairie 
of peace 

I prefer waving 
from afar rather 
than joining the 
parade sitting here 
under the maple 
and wishing well
sipping on a 
cool cocktail of 
peace and calm 
let others march
to the drums 
of some cause 
me I will 
sit under shade
sip and cheer 
knowing that they
like I once 
had marched nowhere 
until I took 
a turn here 

Putting my wars
to rest I
unwrap the last
of my bandages 
and like a
surveyor study their
contours wondering how 
given all these
I ever survived 
the suffering blows 
but remembering then
that these are 
just flesh wounds 
and the lethal 
blows have always 
been taken by
my delicate heart