2 poems by Roy Liran
We managed ourdays working toohard for too little,and the eveningswere laughter andtears. We carriedour scars outwardlyproud, but hopedto disinherit thechildren from wars.One night was fullof crystals, and wespent it on thetense sofa waitingfor change, butin the morning allthe screenshad turned pale,and black with thepromise of blood,and we would haveliked to stay to jointhe fight, but wewere no longer alone.
Guilt is an ancient,sweat soakedovercoat. Here, child,wear it and be w...