Peace is seeing the neighbor outside
and not having to engage.

Peace is a 47-minute phone call
with the President of the Escambia County
Democratic Women’s Club.

Peace is another phone call—
with your aunt who isn’t blood
but feels more like family—
telling you how much that plant clipping grew,
sending a photo of it now,
lush and thriving on her windowsill.

Peace is your boyfriend’s dead dad’s dog
lounging with you on the river deck
at twilight,
after the sun settled,
and set for the day.

Peace is not a pontoon.
I’ll take the water ripples—
the sight and sound of them—
any day.

Peace is the first firefly
you saw on the
summer solstice.

The World and Me are Peace—
at least according to my Spidey Senses. 😉

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