Apr/May 2007 Poetry


by Yermiyahu Ahron Taub

Artwork by KOB ONE


Young father and mother strolled slowly through the flowers.
The thermometer factory was long in the distance,
although silver dust still glittered on mother's cheeks.
Father noted this as he took her face in his huge hands.
The trees parted for them, silent witnesses to a woman on her way to danger.


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