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PoemsPRIVATE Writers

Dorit Weisman
Looking at a snail the morning after a suicide bombing on Emek Refaim Street

text © Dorit Weisman


Gray and self assured and solid it moves forward
on its damp and endless journey

while yesterday’s ambulances go back and forth
back and forth in my brain

its body slimy and exposed
not knowing how fragile

its two antennas in the air facing forward and slanted
as far forward as possible

crawling on the ground
between giant geranium trunks

and one red petal
which has fallen

and what am I doing, counting
the children at home in their beds

and only this snail
this snail alone makes me feel better this morning

and maybe he is watching me
in his quiet, slow manner

beyond time.

© Dorit Weisman, PRIVATE 47, p. 20 (Translation from Hebrew by Ohad Stadler)

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