In Times of Peace

That finger – index to be exact –

so used to a trigger's warmth

how will it begin to deal with skin

that threatens only to embrace?

Those feet, so at home in heavy boots

and stepping over bodies –

how will they cope with a bubble bath

when foam is all there is for ambush?

And what of hearts in times of peace?

Will war-worn hearts grow sluggish

like Valentine roses wilting

without the adrenalin of a bullet's blood-rush?

When the dust of peace has settled on a nation,

how will human arms handle the death of weapons?

And what of ears, are ears so tuned to sirens

that the closing of wings causes a tremor?

As for eyes, are eyes ready for the soft dance

of a butterfly's bootless invasion?