Let’s grub up weapon plants
to grow olive grove
as habitat of human doves
in our mine infested mind
and re-set the terms of seeing
for our power to see
is a straight rod bent in a pool.
now the sky spread open
as an umbrella of peace
whence drizzles no more
nuclear fall out
to frost our earth garden
into a refuse of human remnant.
when the guns’ cough is over
then we all live with one another
meaning something to each other.
peace and war together cannot grow.
war must be uprooted if peace blossoms..
no hands must paw over it.
Olive
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