Poetry on {RIVALS}: Treaty

In this absolutely temporary

absence of our aggression,

I’d better

replenish stores,

rest and recover

before the inevitable buildup

of arms when the angry morning sun comes.

But isn’t this nice?

The quiet of the

evening?

The stillness of this bedroom?

There’s a lamp on in a room across the

street,

and of course the streetlight outside my

open window,

and the slow,

steady scream

of 18-wheelers rumbling by on the

highway not far from here,

occasional

helicopter overhead,

but it’s such

a lovely peace,

I don’t want it to end.