Thursday, April 24, 2014

9 toward the Omer

In loving memory of my grandmother, Sylvia Greenfield Moses,
may her memory always be for and of blessing

"Today while the blossoms still cling to the vines
I'll taste your strawberries and drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away ere I
forget all the joy that is mine today...." Quiet

falls, really it was there while we were singing,
that must be why your eyes are now closed,
I zip away my mandolin, we put on coats,
we leave with you asleep, I always look back

two or three times to get one last glimpse
in case it is that, though I don't know
why I privilege sight in such a way, sound
stays longer, I can still hear you say "marvelous"