Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

T. Carmi

MIRACLES

I go into the dark kitchen
and press the switch.
Lights!

I sit on the sofa
near the dog.
He turns on his back,
raises his paws and yawns.

In the bedroom
I bend down to my wife.
She smiles in her sleep,
murmurs, dreams again.

Don’t they understand?
Fiery creatures are uttering,
the Angel of Death is in the city,
the altar is crying . . .

and I go from room to room,
night after night,
counting the miracles.

MIRACLES

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MIRACLES

I go into the dark kitchen
and press the switch.
Lights!

I sit on the sofa
near the dog.
He turns on his back,
raises his paws and yawns.

In the bedroom
I bend down to my wife.
She smiles in her sleep,
murmurs, dreams again.

Don’t they understand?
Fiery creatures are uttering,
the Angel of Death is in the city,
the altar is crying . . .

and I go from room to room,
night after night,
counting the miracles.

MIRACLES

I go into the dark kitchen
and press the switch.
Lights!

I sit on the sofa
near the dog.
He turns on his back,
raises his paws and yawns.

In the bedroom
I bend down to my wife.
She smiles in her sleep,
murmurs, dreams again.

Don’t they understand?
Fiery creatures are uttering,
the Angel of Death is in the city,
the altar is crying . . .

and I go from room to room,
night after night,
counting the miracles.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère