Peace is the dream you sleep for.
Peace is a lily shared by two people with knives.
Peace is prettier, but war has more to say.
Peace may not be possible with everybody.
Peace is the death of history.
Peace is what the war dead don’t get to enjoy.
Peace is what happens when you ask a plain girl to dance
and find out she’s not so bad after all.
Peace makes you forget that other people are
planning your destruction.
Peace is the hope that those who oppose you
will also listen to you.
Peace is passing up the dessert tray of revenge
and hoping your enemy will do the same.
Peace lets you appreciate many small annoyances
because you know they are not war.
Peace is never complete, though one dreams of
the fullness thereof.
Lynn Levin’s third collection of poems, Fair Creatures of an Hour, will be published by Loonfeather Press in 2009.