‚t was so. On a bench opposite
a stuffy, rattling metro train
under electric flickering neon.

A small elderly French lady –
thin lipped, lipstick dark red
like a razor cut slit wound
pale pink powdered wrinkles
high cheek bones in rouge
’n all the way from her eyelids
up,up, up to her eyebrows
green powdered eye-shadow
and her front pinkish domed
crowned by grey frizzy hair
eyes sleeplessly closed.

And next to her
below this cold neon light
an orthodox Jew
black hat, white face
greasy corkscrew curls
hanging down
aside his cheeks
dark hollowed eyes
in a pensive mood
skinny in his black coat
tired expression.

And beside the Jew
a black Muslim
thick lipped, flat nosed
vividly wandering eyes
round bald head
black sauerkraut beard
not obese but round
in his what is called a caftan
from where under appeared
his bare bare feet in sandals
in full chilly winter time.

There they were sitting
peacefully side by side
representing, representing
the conflict of our world.