Passage

On East Lawn

Conversations of the dogs
along the side streets
here and there
percussing their sharp
evening gossip
and growls.

A searching car,
a-maze in the little neighborhood
below.

  Beneath the sleepy housetops,
  Among the lowering green boughs,
  War is in the
  Minds not there
  In the air.

  Trees will burn
  and their houses too.
  All under no protection
  from the ravagings of
  Hearts,
  from the ravagings of
  War,
  in kind.



Not listening
to the mouths of men
in these murderous judgements.

I hope.

We beasts
have a lot of fun
in our mean times,
but they are only meantimes
and truth will out.