Vasenka citizens do not know they are evidence of happiness
in a time of war,
each is a ripped-out document of laughter.
deaf have something to tell
that not even they can hear —
you will find me, God,
like a dumb pigeon’s beak I am
every way at astonishment.
climb a roof in the Central Square of a bombarded city, you will see my people and me —
one neighbor thieves a cigarette
another gives a dog
a pint of sunlit beer.