Three Poems for the Spring Holidays

Hamilton Gardens, Early April

A blossom fell to the ground, still white, its stamens

Shivering in the sunlight, and one bee circled within

Eager so long as the nectar was intact, its smell

A seductive presence, and above on the tree,

The petals hovering in the sunlight, a trio

Of bees danced within, and then another,

All eager for the sticky juices, unaware the day

Was coming when the winds would shake them all away.

We walked alone slowly through the gardens

And alone in the sunlight of the last autumnal hour,

Prodding to each other to see the blossoms and the bees,

More aware than they of what the winter holds in store,

Unwilling to speak of what we know, under the trees

And the shadows and the need we felt to rest our feet.

Two of us for a Seder

Enough unleavened bread for the both of us, and wine

For a visitor who might magically appear, and some

Chopped nuts and raisins, and a hardboiled egg, herb

And shank bone burnt, but at the table, who

Could ask the questions and hide the affikomen?

Who was strong enough to sit, even aslant, so long,

Waiting for the rabbis to finish their debates?

This year we could not open the door for strangers

And cry our imprecations, or sip four cups,

Or repeat endlessly that it would have been

Enough, and so we forgot the little goat

Who cost my father two zizzim. The oven

Remained unopened, the borsht sat in its glass

Unslurped. This, too, we whispered, this too, shall pass.

Incident a little after dawn

Under the plum tree, the black cat worries something.

It takes a moment to realize the threat, the need

to bark. I should have seen in an instant the birds

were absent, not even balancing on the fence

nor hovering on nearby roofs, as is their wont.

Later, after the sparrows, blackbirds and thrush

clear away the morning’s white slices, the older brood

hops to the kitchen window to admonish me.

The looks they give assure me this is no simple lapse.

They could miss their crumbs and morning whistle.

They could even wait an extra day for water to be changed.

Had I counted them, as usual, to be sure all were there?

What they want me to know they cannot say, they

are so aghast and angry. God has failed them yet again.