Author: admin

YOU LEFT… BY JOAN GERSTEIN

childhood in your vaulted room- computer, CDs, posters, a decade- collection of cockatiel feathers. You left your only suit, worn for your Bar Mitzvah. A neighbor tied your tie knot because we didn’t know how. Your Matt...

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OLD AGE TWIST BY JOAN GERSTEIN

The man in the garage is replacing my water heater. The one on the roof’s replacing solar panels. What goes next – a part of the house or some of me? We’re both as old and dated as a horse and buggy. Scientists say senior...

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BROUGHT TO MY KNEES BY JOAN GERSTEIN

How do I need thee, let me count the ways. From the tibia, femur and patella my legs can flex and bend and extend. Whether bony, dimpled, or knock-kneed, I need thee freely to stand, run, leap, creep. I need thee purely to carry...

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TODAY BY WILLIAM SWARTS

Sunday morning. I’m reading The New York Times and tear up. Truth and lies; black stories and white stories; pandemic and pandemonium; peaceful protests and mob violence; some good people and some bad people; real news and fake...

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HEMLOCK BY WILLIAM SWARTS

Consider the hemlock. After-storm sky clears, pale cones glisten in setting sun. The tree stretches into the summer sky. After-storm sky clears, glows with a gold dispersion– a yellow shimmering, as if air were diffused by...

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FIRST FROST BY WILLIAM SWARTS

And trees awake to sing on this migrating morning. Already leaves have flocked Into nests by the side of the road. A hundred birds articulate the bare bones of the trees; their last call is clear, clearer than my window...

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WALTZ BY LYNNE DOLLE

She dances Alone in the kitchen Mom’s bare feet      step-two-three the radio turned up to the anniversary waltz De nacht vos meer haben cha-sa-nah ghat                                                                         די...

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DANCING DREAMER BY LYNNE DOLLE

10 minutes      behind the curtains I probe the mural on the stage painted a golden-yellow setting sun mountains of reddish-brown rocks,           bones of my ancestor Jacob,           resting his head on a pillow of stone,    ...

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BALLERINA BY LYNNE DOLLE

Sometimes when I dress up in a fancy outfit for synagogue on Shabbos morning I feel like I’m a ballerina in the mirror      at five prancing flinging out my arms to an audience waiting around the breakfast table I sing out, Mom,...

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ARBOREAL BY JOYCE MEYERS

From the icy indifference of the universe, turn to the trees. They never bore with mindless chatter, their comments on the weather sung in the rustle and hue of a leaf, the tilt of a trunk, the bend of a branch. So much wisdom...

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SUPPLICATION BY JOYCE MEYERS

I sit at the feet of the universe and beg to be tutored. Teach me, I say, to let fruit ripen before I reach for it, to wait for sunlight to push its brightness out to paint the shining skin. Let me not merely taste but savor...

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MOON BY JOYCE MEYERS

The crescent moon hangs low tonight, grazes the tops of buildings. Its grin is rakish, a Cheshire cat in a reclining Buddha pose. I think it knows something, but it’s not talking. I am restless. So much to do, so little time,...

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