FRINGES

FRINGES

I am 16
and sneak out of the sanctuary
with him
during the rabbi’s sermon,

we search for trouble, find Manischewitz
and guzzle dixies, giggling through front doors,
like third-graders in June.

Arms filled with soft tallit,
we toss sneakers like lost grenades onto
the little beach, rest borrowed prayer shawls

in damp sand
and kiss silent under stars
as holy fringes tickle our skin.

Published in Cliterature Magazine

LEAVES

LEAVES

April sings warm through
soft afternoon, pink air on my lips
that tune in my ear, you on my mind.
A brook trickles over jagged rocks,
I cross, balancing on sharp slippery stones
happily stretching my foot to shore.

Now, I sit on a stone wall, sad
like Humpty Dumpty
walk miles rocky over wooded path of mud
skeletal remains of leaves left dead
to stamp, tromp, tramp on
soil’s brown hybridized with a tree’s innards,
wondering.

Published in “>Vita Brevis Press