In the background,
he strips thyme and rosemary from their stems,
into a stainless steel bowl.
The scent of herbs, apple pie and ginger
pervades the family room
he watches war unfold on A&E.
An enemy’s blood splatters the screen.
I block out the noise of contradiction,
search for words of love and peace
to celebrate the season in verse.
Music sounds an ending.
I raise my head to witness
a good guy die.
No winners here.
A fire dances in the hearth,
then Mozart fills the room.
Will it be in music
that hope will enclose our battered world?
Will winter snow
cover scorched land, satisfy sere hearts?
Will love supplant bullets,
peace settle in the crevices of wounds?
Bells ring at the entrances of a local Walmart
beneath winter solstice sun.