30 Days Hath September 2016 | Day 32 | The stress of wild peace by Patricia Spears Jones
October 4, 2016
The stress of wild peace
First it was the broken down weapons
Each piece tag and de-sensitized.
Then the furnace’s high heat as what was
The plastic blaster toys were replaced
With garden shovels. Indeed, there were
Many gardens and many boys and girls
Digging and seeding and chatting and dreaming.
Then the news that treaties were being honored
Except the Russians who just could not sign—illerates?
But elsewhere, the hospitals were re-staffed.
The schools repopulated—children healthy, their teachers
Looked for different books with new stories, peace stories.
While the weather evolved, measures were taken to sustain nurture
Keeping the food stocks in decent supply.
There were people who could not carry this
Tenderness. Their fingers reached for the gun
Not there. Their minds roamed about in search
Of targets—see that boy, that girl, the one with an
Accent? But the guns were not there.
And so they entered the dark caves of libation
Where the song list played many a murderous ballad
Narcocorridas; old style blues numbers—see that Stagger Lee
And country tunes where someone was left behind bleeding.
Their drinks were always generous and expensive.
There was nothing more to do.
Look at the moon. The stars. Think of global circumnavigation
Those men who brought animals and fabrics and new diseases
In exchange for gold and bodies and spices and rum.
We have come far from the bowels of those tightly made
Ships. We have come to a place where peace is in abundance
And those who would carry us back are mad with grief
For the days when a hand could smash the face of another
A hand could pull a trigger and destroy children in minutes
A hand could tie a noose around one’s on neck,
A foot could kick the stool.