Peace

In weary circles a sick fish hovers In a pond surrounded by grass. A tree leans against the sky—burned and bent. Yes... the family sits at a large table, Where they peck with their forks from the plates. Gradually they become sleepy, heavy and silent. The sun licks the ground with its hot, poisonous, Voracious mouth, like a dog—a filthy enemy. Bums suddenly collapse without a trace. A coachman looks with concern at a nag Which, torn open, cries in the gutter. Three children stand around in silence.