Stone Soup Peace

I have given
Beds to soldiers
But under their tanks I still sleep

Motionless, they
Have us gather
Ingredients for stone soup peace

Aching in the fields
We harvest
Ornaments or Christmas wreaths

We fall away
From our religion
But these presents we will keep

Shivering
In slavic slumber
Waiting for the other shoe

Bumping
On the subway
You're a stranger, I'm strange too

I get used
To my surroundings
I locate the neighborhood

I grew up in
Bakeries
Crumb-faced, looking rather good