The failure of communication
my locomotives pass under the window
even if they see the sea, the Bay,
the first image is superimposed
they whistle at midnight
they whistle like stray bullets
I mistake them for fireworks
I don't know whether it's war or peace when I hear them.
slowly, I go towards the window
to see the views
maybe it's the neighborhood Arabs
praying at loudspeakers
perhaps it's fireworks from a wedding
maybe it's the Ramadan
it's so close to the synagogue
holiday songs can be heard
'ours' are praying for peace…
only the freight carriers don't get out of fashion at Haifa station
they don't need to follow the trend
my grandson already calls the train 'rakevet'
he does not mistake it for a toy.
the train, the airplane
the failure of communication