Wednesday, October 22, 2025

Samuel 6: In Writing

Drop the lights

Take down the walls

Uncover the sky.


Tomatoes ripen--

Seedlings wait to be planted-- 

God pulses through the rising


Vine, through the purpled geranium bud

Through the flower-shaped milk 

Ducts, that fill and ache and drip-- 


Through the cat that prowls its territory

And the fallen leaf that scrapes the floor-- 

The light that breaks through the grid

Of leftover schach


And through the hospital window

Where Bar breathes in his wildness

Feels the air enter and rush through his wind

Pipe, feels the wind brooding deep


As worldwide people ping photos of the sky

To the phone he will not touch. 


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