The laces of her sneakers
The ideas of members
of the United Nations.
The contrast between the sole and tongue,
slipping controversial words of wisdom.
Yet engraving a forsaken mark into the fragile earth
compressing the shadows
Of the past and the decree of the future.
Union, is simple.
it should be easy right?
The bunny ears made, with,
nimble fingers, tie it tight. But.
Peace. Is different, confusing. Incomplete
Peace is missing.
an idea, theory, or theme.
A practice, and or notion. It’s missing.
something. to say the least.
The stains of green, black, brown
on the lace’s blank canvas blend
Nationality together in
one long pivoting course
Manipulated, twisted, lost, untied
Across the ground, coming to two, dis-
Only to be tied together again in one knot,
sometimes two. Tight
Peace doesn’t stay, but
lingers here and there.
In the severed smile of the moon's mare
or in the ribbons of one’s hair.
Peace lingers upon the shoulders of
Riding it’s turbulent sails across the vast ocean
only to reach land.
Peace is there.
Peace can not exist until one is willing
to tie another's shoe.
Peace can not exist until one understands the world’s
Peace can not exist until one acknowledges when
her laces are tied.