in mind's breast of innocence
truth had a rest
a brief respite
from questioning
a picnic of mind
a piece of chicken wing
potato salad
washed it all down with
a glass of red wine
wiped his chin
with a red and white
checkered napkin
sat cross legged on the lawn
favoring his  eye
to his company fair and smiling
and saw not the flickering
fire over that hill or dale
the war raging
in the rest of society