in the Visigoths republic the windows are open
in the slight breeze creaking asway
the Visigoths republic's every window
Elizabeth Rees
THE 75 YEAR OLD SABBATH QUEEN
Smells of Friday in Manhattan:
challah and chicken, walk slow–
alligator cane, start pacemaker and step.
Bring sweet nuggets for the dog,
roses for blue chippendale vase.
Henry on the phone to Blanche, grieving eyes –
the rash refugees bring,
that long, low country people go afterward:
death, smells of it.
Rabbi Saul on the steps of San Francisco,
generous lips, our Hassidic tale teller.
Sees Aunt Blanche in Henry's eyes, owls,
howling dark.
Whispers: The two of you will open the ark.
Both of us to door, and Torah,
the deepest Jew in me dying, to lift the bodies.
Blanche in Henry's eyes lies down
in her afghan bed, unwraps fresh macaroons .
So many cities in this chapel.
