A generation after the Holocaust
and I know no Hebrew. No Yiddish. No Torah.
I fast only on the Day of Atonement
and even then I’ve been known to cheat.
A generation after the Holocaust
and I apologize for my grandfather’s
bent back and wild gestures.
I used to tremble to the rhythm
of his prayers. I feared the mysterious
words that kept us from the devil.
Now, from my window I watch Nazis march.
Their feet strike the pavement
like the ticking of a clock….
Sunday Sayings: Extract from Richard Michelson’s “The Jews that we are” and this photo of the locked gate as redolent metaphor
PoetryPix 
“Like” really isn’t the word to use here, is it? Being awake to what is, is always right.
yes Neil – having to stay wide awake and take the road less travelled as well
Powerful piece
I came across the poem fortuitously really but it fits these terrible times
I sense a recursive grief as I read this.
I think Michelson is saying just that – else the lessons must be learned again and again
I sorrow in that thought Laura, we have suffered a national issue about race here this weekend, sigh, repetition, though I hold to hope long term.
I saw and was appalled – but hope resides in the silent majority?!
Frightening. (K)
indeed – the signs and sights are all there
Extremely powerful words. We can’t look away right now. We simply can’t.
your words are so true!