Skies Over Israel – First of the Month

i love the poems in my article in First of the Month.

Two are by Ronny Someck:

This one is about the decapitation of a young girl:

I Am the Severed Head You Do Not Know

My hair is more blond than the sand it rolls over
On my lips crowd words
sharp as the knife
that met my throat.
You who are mesmerized by my eyes,
put a chip on the wheel of fortune
that spins under the eyebrows.
Don’t ask my name and imagine my hands
hugging the body that was so beautiful
beneath my neck
and now cast upon the disgrace of the earth
as if it was no more than a banana peel.

The sun shone, the poet wrote,
and I am barely a model of darkness.
No more.

and this is about the clothing Yashar leHayal is collecting and distributing to the local refugees.

In the Clothing Donation Depot for Survivors. Expo, Tel Aviv

I sort bras and learn the difference
between the lacy padded one
and one that is soft-lined underwired cotton.
War is a time of shame
and I’m not Charles Bukowski, who surely would have
tried to identify from whom it was removed and on whom
it will be put on.
I just stuff a pile into a used carton
of chocolate bars
and then pass on to the next pile.

(Translated by Karen Alkalay-Gut)

and one by me:

Regenerating

No sex in wartime,
I always say.
Even a touch of foreplay
brings on the rockets
that give it to us all at once.

Afterward,
everyone who can
makes babies
and give them names
in memory of