1979, A live broadcast, my father bid me come to our new color TV set, the high pitched whine it gave off muted by meaning "remember this moment" he said and we watched, in awed silence as two men, Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin shook hands and our President presided a cold peace at last In retaliation for... Sadat was later shot through the skull and died on a stage in a pool of warm blood surrounded by his brethren
A letter dated 1944 My father's fingers trembled with it in his hands He brought it out to show me "I am the only survivor...all the rest are gone... I am going to Israel" Written hastily with pen and ink, our last surviving relative who we know not of bid farewell to Russia and was on track to a new land from the wellspring of grief and ******
A Jew, my father A half Jew am I and would have been all the same to the **** killing machine I thought one languishing summer day as I ate unripe apples with small wormholes at a farm full of horses Safe in the quiet, if uncaring peace of a world far away from dead Nazis and the abandoned killing centers
Rabin Square in Tel Aviv, 2003 We walked through at night, my husband and I A large empty space in a city without largeness or emptiness We walk without recognition as it is now just a place and not only a shrine But I linger to look at one corner At an embedded sculpture of confused cement blocks jagged angles and useless plains, rendered in immobile lasting cement a testament to futility It is pain, frustration and the sickness of human violence-- Itzak Rabin who was shot and bled to death in a crowd in the dust of his also unknown and forgotten ancestors in retaliation for the hope of peace
News of more bombs today Fresh death Mangled human potential rendered useless In retaliation for...