Not ten seconds
Past ten minutes
After the last audible blast,
Already, outside
Trucks beep as they reverse
Wolt scooters rev to life
(At first, I swear, they sound almost like azakot)
Horns blare, and
Impatient workers shout over the din
As if nothing of potential great consequence had just happened
As if all of this was completely normal-
Our fragile lives, dependent
Upon a technology that
Still feels like a miracle
And although I, a sceptic,
Do not believe in miracles,
Here I am, now
Showered and dressed
Legs tucked beneath me, hot
Coffee on the couch
And from my window
The bay looks particularly blue today
Stark Mediterranean contrast to the
White roofs that lay like low tables between us
And the red and white
Candystriped arms of the bay port cranes
Turn the world from my window into
"le Tricolore"
I pour a second cup from my Moka pot
And turn up The Beatles
To dance with myself
The small, white puffs
That had punctuated the sky
Have already dissipated
No longer distinguishable from
Ordinary clouds.
Inbar Frishman
Friday, 27 September, 2024
09:23hr, Haifa
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