Erev Yom Ha’atzma’ut

ערב יום העצמאות

 

Twelve years ago, it was towers that fell –

this mild spring day, it is runners’ legs

cut down beneath them

and a child, small and crumpled,

carried in an emergency worker’s arms like a doll,

only heavier, as the dead are.

Our words tonight took up more air,

each breath between

a moment of silence.

 

Blood flowers brighter than tulips

on the steps my highschool class once posed on.

Our grins said, nothing can touch us.

Today taught us worse.

Tomorrow, into discomfort so deep no words can dredge it,

we’ll send song.

 

Blessed are you, G-d,

who gives what we take away.

 

–       VB, April 15th, 2013

Newton, MA

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