I had my eye on her from the first moment we sat down.  Efficient, good-natured, pretty, witty – where will I find the flaw?

I was in the mood to find flaws.

But she was so perfect .  So I started talking to her, about the weather, the view, the usual.  And then we hit on something – and she said she wasn’t allowed to talk about these things in public.  Public?  We said.  We’re friends!  And she said – remember 1995.  And she left.

I remembered – it was the year our hope died.

The Hope

Karen Alkalay-Gut

On the night Rabin died I dreamt I wandered the streets

homeless and lonely in a crowd of confusion, ricocheting

off relatives and friends barely regarded, while dogs of peace

ran with panthers and tigers all loose and all free. 

No one was working — everyone

out on the streets or in groups

sleeping in different houses, using

 interchangeably each others’ phones —

connecting  with wrong numbers

saying a few impotent words,

disconnecting indifferently

Unseasonable cold penetrated my clothes,

and uncoated  I sought shelter

in cloaks of the dead,

but found myself in other byways

before I could wrap myself in them

The river was solid and the earth

liquid under our feet — the worst

walked on water while the best

fell in the treacherous sands.

Nothing held  the dream together

and everything could fall apart

at any random moment