S. W.

One day,
By clever diversion,
life made treaty with death in you,
a minority ground-swell in opposition
and  War began.

I fled to the borders,
what could I do?
For seven years
I hid and trained my binoculars
on your embattled soul
made sorties for your replenishment,
You always smiled in tranquility
as if precious children rioted
in your skirts.

When the smoke cleared,
the flame flickered out,
I carried away some of the rubble
for a keepsake,
ashes that remained,
with your smile.

What more could you have done?
The treaty you could not break,
nor could I,
Your life triumphs still by joy,
It is the Treaty Breaker's tranquil smile.