In one ringing brass sound the world conspired.
Blue and Green spinning
four times fast inspired
red angels to smoke and scream
from hundreds of pink carbon fires.
Trumpets into angels floated down to stop
sirens singing from top to top
by black nets of indistinct eyes and body lies
encased in black, once enveloped.
A second, an hour, a century gone.
Indifference salted by romance and song.
Pink shelters bloomed with soft spring tides
and promised un-kept secrets from so many slides
because a walk with fate
would only let you breathe
if your dropped the armor and agreed to bleed.
- Written in Tfat, Israel
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