Peace MarchHe had thought he might, this time, march had been forced to take refuge in the trees, into politics, he went off to find a coffee shop. into what his Prime Minister would later call the mob each other off and keeping to himself those pieces of quiet He did not, as instructed, cry against Later that week, seeing anti-war protesters trash the coffee shop, Peace, because it is a work of open hands, must always be powerless I have just three things to teach, said Lao-Tzu, When war begins, patience and simplicity have ways to survive: Compassion, since it cannot keep the enemy in sight, dies The children scrambling out of Basra 's scraps do not understand this. they do not dream how dangerous they are, carrying pity like The anti-war riot made the headlines. His peace march had received For some reason he finds himself remembering the ibis. beside their bins to investigate whatever scraps were left behind. [Noel Rowe is Australian. This poem is from his Next to Nothing (Vagabond Press, Sydney , 2004.)]
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