elderly ewes who know war
new children, speaking an ancient tongue
a man, both farmer and father, skin hardened by sun, passes by on a horse, reins in one hand, pistol in his pocket.

faraway orchards rise into distant heights. these rocks know violence.

nearby a school lets out, the schoolyard fills. the bomb shelter watches over the young
its doors locked, extinct. Or is dormant?

down the street a teenager sits on the porch his father built
reminiscing of khaki and smoke, dreaming of khaki and smoke.
the army awaits him. small earlocks curl down his ears,
his hair disappears under a knit yarmulke*, in the language of the old country.

*skullcap