Guest Writer: Karen DuBert
This is My Body
Reflections on the zero-sum Fallacy
a stand off:
lone pigeon against his world
(a community of seven or eight)
he clings to power
over his stale half-bread
discarded in the
littered plaza.
tentatively they advance
(the seven or eight)
each time he pecks
the bread falls
he struts, they
advance, he shoos
retreat they, and wait
he plucks again
bread rises, falls
hungry, they eye
it—he defends
plenty for all
and more; such small
brains cannot grasp
its immensity
the gift of it.
an outsider with out-
stretched hands approaches
they flutter while
the ragged bun, softly broken,
is scattered wide:
forgotten strife,
the flock, gentled, feeds
across the plaza
ah, in how many worlds
does broken bread
bring peace?
Karen DuBert
Joanna joannaseibert.com