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Loose Change
By Aviva Dautch
after Yehuda Amichai
There is always someone who stands
outside the window, under a barren sky,
while fallen seedpods cover the ground
with silvery moons. She scoops a few
into her hands like loose change
and rubs their membrane between thumb
and forefingers, translating their name –
Honesty in one version, in another: Judas Coins.
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