THE SECURITY BLANKET

Each night, riddled with new holes

We cling to hope after each new conflict

Threadbare becomes the security blanket 

from friction continuous 

which offers now but an inch of warmth

Within its sparse comfort We wrap ourselves

A cocoon of fraying strands 

Angst and turmoil escaping its gaps

And myriad dilemmas expanding

Over the soft sound of a ticking clock

But despite its ever diminishing size

The frayed mask disguises the worry lines

blurs the forces of division

and lulls Us with its sweet lullaby

offered without grudge since discovery