Art & Music | Poetry

In this quiet frothy blanket
We are making peace
The silent drifting and tender whispers of fate
Promising to transform
The dangers of politics
And men with fingers poised over buttons
And boys and girls in broken places
In the laughter of our
Distant selves across telephone lines
And close gathering of friends
We are crowding evil out
To fill even the tiniest spaces with goodness
For safety to our troops
And sympathy for our strangers
These nights of stars and snow and love
Are ours
But they are ours to make pure for others