Page 28 - Issue 28

stomach feels like I’ve woken up early to go on a long
journey, that I’m about to get on a train to a bus to
another train. It feels like when I step outside it’s
going to be dark and cold.

Marina says it feels like last summer when she
drove from Washington to San Francisco amid the
wildfires. She says, there were so many fires behind
me and so much smoke in front of me but I knew in
the car I was safe and I just had to keep driving.

I say, you should write a poem about
that. You should talk about how
God led the Israelities from Egypt
as a pillar of smoke by day and a
pillar of fire by night to protect
them and guide their way. For
you the fire and the smoke were
menacing, not protective forces.
But at the same time they guided
you where you needed to go.

She says, I’m not going to write a poem like that.

2. I spend Shavuot with Doron’s family in Ruhama.
It’s close enough to Gaza that we can hear explosions
all night and all day, but it’s in a remote enough area
that it’s not worth the waste of a missile to fire at.
Since we’re not worried about a siren compelling us
to a shelter, we take advantage of our freedom and
go for a drive around the badlands.