Your earrings
April dailies

Songbird

In the open window
as we began seder.

Between the readings
a fountain of birdsong.

That’s your mother,
someone said, hushed.

I called us to silence.
Can everyone hear —

I think even the skeptics
felt you there.

What was it like
to visit us in that tiny body

gilding the room with song
we could almost understand?

 

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