THE CLOCKS HAVE STOPPED
A doorbell rings—
pay attention:
Mourners sing
to a Kaddish wail,
Kol Nidre lyrics
fill a gaping hole
in my lonely soul.
My cold hands
warm between
your soft thighs.
Aesop’s Fables
survive today
for diaper-free
kids of tomorrow.
Don’t cry for me
as love endures
for the object
of my adoration.
Silent words speak
of spiritual allelulas.
There’s no time
like the present.