You needn’t spend much time in Jerusalem to see Israeli military reservists – on leave/furlough but still active for mobilization – in civilian clothes, carrying assault rifles with them in their day-to-day lives. It takes some getting used to and can lead to many moments of contextual incongruity. The 20-ish female soldier in uniform? Sure. The 20-ish female reservist at a beachside restaurant? Not so easy. But, that is the reality.

The poem below is based on my observing two reservists while we waited at a light rail station in West Jerusalem.

The Reservists

The pair are on call but at ease, 
summer wardrobe, sunlit conversation
The weapons slung from their shoulders
charge the surrounding molecules. 

We see variations in 
our new reality:
a young man in a Tupac tee
a father pushing his child in a stroller
a bikini-topped woman at a restaurant table.

We are accustomed, not at ease.

.I want to transport this couple
to some crowded esplanade,
cocktails at hand
as sailboats lumber past the breakwater.
No guns. No duties. No risks.

Here and now he reaches out
and runs his thumbs along her eyebrows.
She smiles stiffly, 
the molecules vibrating anxiously.

She sees me watching and
gives me a glance but no more
as she manages the greater of two intrusions.