Log Cabin Chronicles
Salamanders on the Northern Road
Salamanders cross the northern
road. Slow and indifferent they
crawl towards the fence. I brake
suddenley, stop the patrol. In the valleys
and in the fields everything suddenly falls silent:
a poisonous orange color, black tail
stripes, but their radiance darkens
the morning light. On guard, helmets,
I order. But neither flak jackets
nor chain armour are any use
any more: in the bright orange that suddenly
explodes, I see them, withdrawing lazily, innocent,
oh, so innocent, as if they didn't bear
on their backs intimations of their warning.
Translated from the Hebrew by Asher Harris.
Elisha Porat can be contacted at email@example.com.
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