yom shlishi

the woman carrying the melon in her arms

is a mother

the light falls on her feet as to water

the light shudders

Who forgot Sefirot

raspberries take me back

it’s Shavuot

your pavlova in my arms

I’m running, I scar my arm

Sabba picks me up and throws me high

I forget everything-

the Omer is over.

lag b’omer 5775

Emet Emet

the shul is dry, the ground is wet

I don’t know why. I haven’t cried

here, for years.

yom kippur five seven five five

when I lost Ima to the wretched

wife of rav katz.

but my heart, my heart

says the ground is wet and my eyes

otherwise, emet.