Black Moon

Like a sleepwalker she moves through the
overgrown paths of his troubled sleep,
in the black and white negative print
of his unfinished dream -
Under a black moon she stops, freezing
against a white bright sky, like a deer
reflecting on the sound, of a hidden
current, whispering underground...
With no sound he tries to call her name
as slowly she vanishes into the bushes,
so strangely and brightly aflame -
leaving on the filmpaper, where she was a
scar, like a cigarette burn -




Nomi Ben-David