(dedicated to my father, a child victim of a polio epidemic) I feel your shame As you swing your bum leg Over the edge of the rocking dingy. I hear the thud When you settle down hard On the salt-weary bench. But I see your pride When you grip those oars Looking like everyone else […]
(dedicated to the troubled women I worked with in a shelter) Tonight When he staggers home She will kill him Erase him from that page in her life And start to hope again. Blood Crimson as those autumn birch leaves Will drop from her knife Falling at last into empty eyes In the velvet night. […]
Outside my window A leaf journeys to a certain death Embraces a resting drop of dew That glistens in the morning sun To remind me you are here.
We are amazed by the glimmers of life and beauty But mostly the sadness that manages to reach us in our basements. Who can ignore that slow, sad whistle of the morning walker Or disregard our memories from long ago. They all come with each incessant pearl of rain That knocks without remorse Against our […]
I wrap this Yahrzeit candle In a wool sock. This time you will have safe transport. Yes, I must pack and get on with life But never , not even once, will I forget you.
Dedicated to my late husband, a Holocaust Survivor Written in my room at the Hotel Banat in Bucharest, Romania on October 28, 2018 Your spirit is here in this old hotel room Its laughter drifts out through heavy drapes Blends with echoing street sounds below. It sips local wine in the elegant glass of yesterday […]
Written by Cora Schwartz (dedicated to Grandmothers) The baby stretches out on my wrinkled chest Her tiny fingers tightly curled around my useless one Her innocent eyes study snowflakes caressing the window She does not know those are my angels watching over us Just an old woman in her last moments of joy. She makes […]
(dedicated to my late husband, a Holocaust Survivor) Friday night you are alive again I strain to hear your whistle See you burst back into life In a glorious shower of stars. Enticed by the wine glass Watching my single, hopeless tear You speak your wordless wisdom Your heavy hands resting on yellow formica. Treacherous […]
(dedicated to women I’ve known) The Grand Concourse, Once we promenaded there in Sunday finery Past steadfast doormen Under sheltering canopies We waited in plush lobbies Where smoky blue mirrors comforted us. Now, on an icy morning The street littered with waste Seventeen, maybe less She pushes a stroller to the yawning giant Feeds it […]
(dedicated to my late father, a child victim of a Polio Epidemic) You took pride in just being there Despite your handicap ‘Me car’s me legs’ you’d say In your fake brogue As you waited patiently outside. I will never forget The Daily News propped against your steering wheel The warmth, the cigar smoke The […]