We sit at a table eat our meal
and talk.
As there are at least five of
us assembled,
The conversation is mundane and
goes nowhere,
Until someone comes in with an
item of news
That makes everyone sit up and
take notice.
This is Israel and its 2002 and
no end of excitement.
One of our people just arrived
back by Bus
And was witness to Police cars
and Ambulances
Flying by on their way to
Beit Shean, a place she
Had visited only an hour
before.
She had brought a small radio-set
with her and
Right on 12.00 we hear the
broadcast.
Two armed terrorists had shot
up a crowd
Of voters standing in a queue
outside the
Polling booth, killing many,
and wounding many more.
The report said that the Terrorists
had both been killed.
further news would be reported
as soon as available.
We discussed her narrow escape
from trouble,
And everyone now had to tell a
story of recent
Or distant, escapes, in which
they had participated.
Sometimes we discussed
Philosophy, Pornography
History, The Cinema, Art, Personal
Health, Operations,
Past and Present, the weather,
Rainfall, Thunder,
Lightening, Hail, Snow,
Cyclones and Chamsins.
Arafat and Sharon, The Likud
and Muslims.
We talked about Hannukah
mentioned Ramadan
And Xmas would all fall round about
the same time.
Another year would soon be over
and we counted,
Our years and realized that
siting around the table
The youngest of us was 78, and
the oldest was,
Heading for 90 by far the
oldest folk,
On the Kibbutz
by Hillie Feldman 10 December
2002
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