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About This Poem
Dove of peace
The sky is dark and foreboding
the sky of the night waits
The eerie shape of the moon is hidden
When suddenly a small chink appears
a weak light is projected downward
getting stronger by the minute
In that shaft of light is the shadow
of a bird carrying in its beak
an olive branch he flies off
towards the fighting zone
where the heads of
Government are convening
Dropping the branch on the table
he chirps then flies off to wait.
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