Diplomacy Lessons

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Dynamite Fishing on the Tigris

The little armored knot of SUVs
Unfurls along the bank. Our first unease
Gives way to narrow smiles. The skiff puts out
Past the burned checkpoint, past the twisted bridge.

On shore the children play with twisted steel.
They shriek, drop dead, or smile upon command,
Then toss their old allegiance on the sand
To run downstream: some keener death's appeal?

A confluent clamor overflies the flood.
We crouch. The guards confer. We pledge
To stay the course. No ripple stirs to doubt
Five thousand limpid years of silt and blood.

Choppers collect some gentle suffering thing.
Peace floats to the surface. The birds take wing.

John Brady Kiesling
April 2004-February 2007