The Distance That Peace Brings

Something has stilled inside me
the animal wariness
and brute violence
quenched in glacial calm.

The winds tell me I have
agreed to sacrifice,
agreed to this holy exchange
with ancient murmurs
and nightly pleas.
And it does not surprise me
that silence is required.

My ears burn
(as my body does)
in some chemical crucible
reserved for only these days.

I have staved off death
when I would have accepted,
and bought, at a price,
the distance that peace brings.

Like Landscapes.

There is a line of dark clouds
converging on the newly sprung shoots of
the tree outside -
lime green against dark cloud grey
and the white of angry cumulus
who write my days in a
fine ink of ice and vapor.

They speak of time
in ways I almost know,
In voices I can almost hear.
I wait for someone to remove this shroud
so that they may roll through me
like landscapes of foreign worlds.