No, today she whispers

behind the heads facing forward

suits, smiles on one side

hoodies, sidelong glances on the other

caviar-stained fingernails on one side

quaking fingertips on the other

Peace walks

up and down the table

whose clean white cloth topped

with water, still or sparkling

spreads beyond the view of those who cannot turn

the lights on after dark,

whose water has stopped running.

Peace kneels

where army fatigues meet gleaming

leather. She ties enemy shoelaces together.

She can do this without penalty.

She knows nothing,

except their heartbeats,

brazen and confined.

Peace knows

enough today.

Only one prepared himself,

made love to his wife this morning.

There are other ways: dances, mantras, songs, laughter,

prayers for the homeland, prayers for the enemy, anything

for the heart to clear its justification for crimes.

Peace fades

from view, mistaken for others

crossing the border, shuttling children,

leaving fathers to save the fatherland.

Only one today is ready to appease her,

listen when she talks, only one

in tears for as long as he can hear her

whisper.