For Shimon

megdekorne

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And the winters are so many

and the winters are not so many

and everything feels so close to me

the Caspian Sea

the skeleton dress

the man with turban pastel

everything feels so close to me

and somebody’s on the moon as well .

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And I hear your name

and I hear my name

over the loudspeaker

with a million others

white sleeping tents so many

the dreams singing , all yelling to dispel

the unexpected questions

bewilderment to foretell.

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And it’s written over the land

and it’s written on a neon sign

and the fish make rainbows

and bodies scatter Jerusalem

dead , dead and soft like brown mangoes ripe

and children shoot machine guns killing the gazelle

and the winters are so many .

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And into the Hall of Extinction

and into the Ship of Imagination

and into frozen lakes of Titan to dwell

where my mother…

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