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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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