Monday, February 5, 2018

Happy Birthday Sweetheart

Every year
the chorus on the
other side of the veil
grows.
Numb to the oldest members’
tenor-alto-soprano, their buzzes
are a gentle sting at the base of my spine.
The newest addition, an off-key tenor,
with raucous glee,
chants his own version
of that ancient hymn.
His fingers caress my scars, pausing
against the shadowed fractures of my ribs,
as they climb,
until they cradle my naked skull.
He removes his kippah,
the one I made him
for some long-forgotten event,
puts it on me
to keep me warm.
The only voice I hear is mine,
chanting the kaddish
as I light the candles,
adding one.

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