Shemini
March 31, 2015 § Leave a comment
And from the fire
Savta Sara’s matzo men
with raisin eyes, and unraised hands
.
and I won’t forget the hum of the road inside the glass;
seven windows at the front of the house
and four children’s shuttered lives
.
not enough for me to pass over
through, or under.
portion for foxes.
March 16, 2015 § Leave a comment
each night the red fox comes
and turns, and looks at me
and I do not follow him into the bedroom
I run to Abba, and drink my milk.
each night the red fox comes;
when I wake I am sweating and trembling and lie
room lit for thirty seconds
when I drift back I cannot avoid his eyes, for they are my own
full of all the wrong things I’ve done-
both leaving and returning to me
night after night, as though I am trying to purge myself
of myself.
each night the red fox comes
and burns me up;
I close the door on the me that made love without love
I shut down the dream as though it were not my soul ending.