Truce (2)

Things were going just fine

cordial, cold, robotic, no acrimony

When I broke the calm

by asking the entirely wrong question.


Fighting renewed, airplanes overhead

Daily barrage of AK47 rapid fire

in the electronic street of emails

Your aggressive Stalin to my calmer Churchill.


Collateral damage is inevitable;

children crying with limbs blown off

mentally and emotionally wounded psyches

triggering PTSD tears.


I renewed the truce

withdrew my request

ended the battle

fearful the damage is irreparable.


(I took a graduate poetry writing class at Morehead State University. The professor would assign simple prompts which we would develop into 20 apertures. This poem was inspired by the prompt “I hope …” which was my apertures “I hope that people who hate me now will moderate to apathy soon enough”.

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