Beyond Valium,
peace is knowing one's child
is an internist.
On Passover we
opened the door for Elijah.
Now our cat is gone.
After the warm rain
the sweet smell of camellias.
Did you wipe your feet?
Her lips near my ear,
Aunt Sadie whispers the name
of her friend's disease.
Today I am a man.
Tomorrow I will return
to the seventh grade.
Testing the warm milk
on her wrist, she sighs softly.
But her son is forty.
reminds me to wait an hour
after my sandwich.
Like a bonsai tree,
is your terrible posture
at my dinner table.
Is one Nobel Prize
so much to ask from a child
after all I've done?
(Haikus for Jews by David Bader)
No comments:
Post a Comment