Peace Process

 

Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

 

—Pablo Neruda

 

 

I am making this from my love of an old dog named Roscoe—

who died in our house with our hands on his head

who was loyal and now runs 

in dreams for peace is hope. 

 

I cannot maintain. Still he is with me. 

Peace.  Naive. My love.