picass0, dove 1949

I haven't considered peace much lately I know
I've gotten too used to war.
In the papers, one man says to another
you can't have this if you don't give
this or this or even that to me. And the other man
laughs instead of cries. He knows,
it's just a game where words can alter
the shape of another man's country. I know

I haven't wept enough
over the bones of their children or the dogs abandoned by
the widows. They line the streets in other
places not here, and other countries I see
remote as the stars that circle
round our planet. I know
my tears are nothing but water and salt and
yet my hand stays open, I know.

by Peggy