I dropped         my wine

when        I heard about
the   Tree of Life attack
the         purple pooling
on the tiles           of my
synagogue here      as I
imagined blood   stain-
ing synagogue    floors
there     and    souls for-
ever        fixed at prayer

Sabbath shattered     its

fine crystal   cutting the
feet of peace    not to be
restored        at least not
the way I knew it     Sab-
bath peace    would now
be   a soldier home from
war   crippled bandaged
though at     least     alive

I thought       of my uncle

once       the   rabbi  there
He          claimed  descent
from Rashi*        wore his
teachings      like  a paper
coat        Now  I saw them
both walking weeping to-
gether   each tear like my  
wine   a lost drop of hope

 
I should    have    thought
of            Mother Emanuel
her         children killed in
their            place of peace
and        all churches  that
burned           down South
Of          citizens  snatched
from          city streets  for
the  crime of             being
brown             We worship
this way now        One eye
on the heavens     another
on the door  A  tough love
God is telling us     to pray
together  Otherwise amid
the flags and fireworks   I
too       shall lose  America

*Rashi was a medievel Jewish scholar.

He also made wine. Too bad we can’t
taste the grapes he crushed.