Potatoes In a Pretty Blue Dish

The potatoes are cooling in a pretty blue dish.
Looking like hillside stones or sleeping piglets. 

While waiting for the litter to cool off.
I thought about the many wars being fought...
On our beautiful blue planet of the newly forsaken. 
Millions of innocent lives selfishly taken.
How much money and time have been wasted.
Lobbing bombs into robin's-egg skies, no wells of life being dug.
No mustard seeds planted, while white crosses are sown.
From which nothing but heartache ever grows.

The potatoes in the pretty blue dish have cooled enough to eat. 
Wars tend to harden over time and will never cease to be.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Rodrigues Avatar
October 27, 2023 at 9:01 PM
From the mundane potato in a fancy dish to dissing about war. Time well spent on family and potatoes but not war.
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