They amputated
Your thighs from my waist.
For me they are always
Surgeons. All of them.
They dismantled us
One from another. For me they are engineers.
Pity, We were a good and loving
Invention: an airplane made of man and woman,
Wings and all:
We soared a bit from the earth,
We flew a bit.
Pity, We Were A Good Invention
Yehuda Amichai
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Poem topics: woman, earth, good, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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