I was reminded of this poem when I was sitting in Logan yesterday. Enjoy.
A Flock of Sheep Near the Airport, Yehuda Amichai, The American Poetry Review, Sep/Oct 1996
A flock of sheep near the airport or a high voltage generator beside the orchard: these combinations open up my life like a wound, but they also heal it. That's why my feelings always come in twos. That's why I'm like a man who tears up a letter and then has second thoughts, picking up the pieces and pasting them together again with great pains, sometimes for the rest of his life.
But once I went looking for my son at night and found him in an empty basketball court lit by a powerful floodlight. He was playing all alone. And the sound of the ball bouncing was the only sound in the world.
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