a place without rain
where whiteness stretches its long cracked fingers
above an ancient cave,
ivory rocks and ochre pebbles
the earth jewels that adorn.
Green veins on my hand spread,
startling like a dozen River Jordans,
while behind dark sunglasses
images move listless smoke
from the fires of wanderers.
Their tired horses have braided manes
and eyes darker than shadows.
I blink, and beckoning circles,
laughing voices that charm and cajole
disappear like silver earrings in pale sand.
Sweat drips on cool dirt
by pail, shovel and pick,
I dip my hand into fragments of clay and bone.
Israel, July 2016