In my childhood
There were owls sitting on the lamppost
And my father buried a broken tooth with me.
while you said that they curse.
And we children,
We threw stones at them.
The heavens are open, Aba said,
You can make a wish
I buried the tooth and I whispered
I wish I were.
In front of the house that keeps expanding.
With a green garbage can getting filled up again.
Owls like Father’s hands
Huge eyes and feathers brown
Like his face.
They howled, we threw stones.
Once, on a Shabbat morning
I heard you cry
forced sound but clear.
Owls on an electric pole
And a soft neon light.
Yoram asked me: show me and
I will show you.
In a storeroom without a ceiling
Which witnessed how
A dog became crippled.
And it panted
And it sighed
Until it died,
Until it died.
Owls like a lost secret in concrete
Like milk teeth lying far beneath.
And aba said: The heaven are open,
Make a wish
And I whispered I wish,
his voice was lost
Owls were gone forever.
The garbage can is filled up with children’s drawings,
And you are still controlling with loud voices around.
The house is expanding at both sides
And the grass rotted under a green carpet.
Tell me where are you storing them,
Open boxes in my head
Memories soaked in my soul,
Once in a while I put them straight
Pulling out a wrinkled one,
Airing it out and return it to its place.
Tell me where are the owls today,
And father’s voice
was it recorded in the photons of light?
Everything was taken away and burned in the space.
That’s what Yossi said, and he promised:
One day we will build a new past.
And will restore everything to its previous strength,
Zion will be built,
And the sound will sound like in the old days again,
Owls will come back to my home.
You will cry softly once more.
From reluctant touch, early in Shabbat morning.