Ships at Night

Full moon, Bus station, A billboard and me

Chatter approaches behind. It’s a woman, young,
Slightly fat, nondescript, Plain clothing, a backpack,
And words pouring out

She mumbles of “people that hurt her”
And “hands and restraints”
I turn stiff and polite. She mutters some more
Of “abuse” and of “pain”

I look for succor… And the billboard says “later”

And then…

She smiles, and transforms… She becomes…
Angelic and bright, Soft innocence and light…

And I want, to hug her for comfort, Protect her from harm
Help? How?

Her smile fades to plain, To utter complaints
“They should have apologized” she says
Facing the mad, all I can offer Is
“Yes” “true” and “they should”

And she smiles again… And a baby is born,
Moon evolves into sun, Precious flower is offered
From a Child’s hand to mine
And it’s gone…

The billboard says “now”

She curtsy (a little), Exit stage left …
Her backpack is bobbing, As she bubbles away.

To the right … In metal and glass,
Sane (?) lost

Very confused.

– Yehoshua Aryeh


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