Something's rather strange about Rosh HaShanah pavements
Certainly something going on somewhere down below
Perhaps the Magefah set to spring at any sinner
An evil decree crouching cat like on the ashphalt
The folk who I pass fix eyes firmly on the pavements
Refusing to shift their gaze from goings on below
And turn a glance toward my stranger's physiognomy
Exchange a smile and greeting with one they do not know
Fearful I'm some agent perhaps Malach HaMovet
A distraction from the menace lurking there beneath
Like David studying Torah as the Malach hovered
Eyes fixed like cow gum to the seal between the slabs
Keeping from the region where they wouldn't want to go