Log Cabin Chronicles
The Graft
ELISHA PORAT
With my sharp grafting knife, with its tempered rounded blade, with an eager and practiced hand, I invade the body of the aging mulberry tree. The young branch that has been chosen absolutely bursts with the damp raging juices of life. And when I thrust and slide it under the bark and bind it firmly, I think of the aging trunk that is my own body, and of the miracle that is denied me, of the wound of the mulberry tree, and of the mercy with which I cause it pain: the beneficent mercy of the graft.
Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner.
Elisha Porat writes on a kibbutz in Israel.
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