Poetry of Issue #9        Page 9

Peace

Moon grins upon
its own white
fragmented by
pond’s dappled face.
Gunshots boom from
beyond earth’s dark
shoulder, I believe
from a gun club
miles away, beside
city’s faint electric
glow. I hide in
my own shadows,
hold my silence
and peace in idle
reverie, while
the city slowly
grows, relentlessly.