It’s the same song playing under the sun.
Day after day, a triangle tings
in the back of the band: barely there,
but beautiful as chimes trembling in a breeze.
We quiver, as when finger tips stroke our necks.
The measures flow, pianissimo, lovely —
until, in a shift of pace,
the sweetness turns hard: cymbals crash.
Now the triangle clangs and clangs,
like the banging of swords. Soon the trumpets join in,
and the clarinets wail and whine their warnings.
We brace ourselves for whatever comes next:
tornadoes, tsunamis, deaths in the square.
An Oud weeps from the shadows,
mourning, writhing, tender as peace.
Same damn song, whatever we do.
Lori Levy is the author of “In the Mood for Orange,” published in Israel in a bilingual English-Hebrew edition. Her poems have appeared in literary journals in the United States, England and Israel.