We Talk

I disagree

We pause

Words of silent rage pass between us

Words within that never meet the light of day

We talk no more than what we plan to say

What we think may cause the other’s sway

From their control and point of view

To mine, my own, my new

We meet but now our heart is closed

Our one is two once more

Our winter chill

Our only hope the warmth of honest will

. . .


Honest: free of deceit, truthful and sincere.

Will: an expression of the future, hope, or intent; the control over thought and action; a legal declaration of a person’s wish.

. . .


This poem is as much between two nations as two people.