| Yahrzeit—Erev
Rosh Hashanah (for Ella) You said I'd be forty for a long time. That was your way of talking. Not to put too fine a point on it, I'm exactly forty-two years and four months old Today The last day of the old Jewish year, Five thousand...something. I have a headache. Tomorrow is exactly one year ago I saw you for the last time. My head is so full of memory, it hurts. Today I swam a mile, eighty-two laps in the pool. Your eighty-second birthday was the first you weren't around to celebrate. I sat in what used to be your garden (Now the garden is gone.) And thought back on your life. Your life That tucked into mine by chance, The way the regular and Jewish calendar days sometimes coincide, The way magic and meaning sometimes come together. And I don't mean to kvetch, but I have a headache. I will not scatter crumbs upon the water. Maybe I need to swallow a double dose of honey Tomorrow. You said I'd be forty for a long time. |