i pick you up from the earlobes ,
shining in the december of your adolescence .

this morning a 19 year old boy asked me how to spell achievement .

this afternoon i saw exhaustion in a single mother's fingers .

i saw peace in the bald , pink cancer patient seeking holistic remedies at Whole Foods .
the weary barista delights in his tip jar .

and this
this is the tip

of the glacier 
that is hope ;
a shipwrecked shore to call home

you are not from here
sailor .
do not anchor 
your worries to reality ..

we all beat the ocean 
in our sleep

I wore a gold Star.
I bear a tattoo.
When Six Million died
I was one of the few,
Through the mercy of God
or the missed chance of Fate,
I escaped from the boxcar
into winter’s dim light.

My parents and sister,
Long are dust on the wind.
Their faith and their race
were their only known sins
Now, though stooped and arthritic,
I still testify
To the bitter cup tasted
when the Six Million died.


(An elderly docent at the Shoah Center recalls his brush with death at the hands of the Gestapo)

"Kiss me"
you wrote on a napkin.
and left it in your jacket pocket for me to find
"I want you"
you wrote on a sugar packet
and handed it to me like it was a joke
"Nothing" you wrote on my lips
the first time they touched yours