A Poem by John Grey 

If I align myself with earth,
you choose sky,
anything as long as our views clash.

You’re like a cloud
bored with being white and fluffy,
that feels it’s merely flotsam
if its not dark and stormy.

I never thought of silence
as a weak-kneed disclaimer
but my resting
is your flash-point,
my eyes closed,
your sword jerked from its scabbard.

I’m sorry that this lack of edginess
puts you on edge.
I apologize in advance
for all my future apologies.

But the fact is
you’re more comfortable in a war /one.
You don’t like the way
peace keeps staring at you.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Sheepshead Review, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Poem and Spoon River Poetry Review.  



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