Leave, or: Leaves

My 1st chōka 'Leaves and yellow curb' by Glenn Buttkus brown blanket threadbare tattered shivering bodies trampled by spiders succumbing to elements blown cold against curb blue pebbles await beyond golden barrier chance crevice veiled by despair only one dares hope haltingly extends upwards feeling its way to heaven d'Verse poetics prompt: 'Exploring the realm… Continue reading Leave, or: Leaves

Momentary heartbeats, or: Silence

Jerusalem, Israel We live in Jerusalem, our apartment at an intersection on a major thoroughfare, the central north-south artery running through the city center. This is convenient for a family with no vehicle; a bus stop rests just outside our window, making the Jerusalem downtown readily accessible. As you can well imagine, we constantly hear… Continue reading Momentary heartbeats, or: Silence

Sea, or: Sky

Today marks the Jewish holiday of Purim, one major theme of which is the Hebrew phrase 'nahafokh hu' (נַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא), which, loosely translated, means 'it was turned to the contrary'. This comes to us from a particular verse in the Book of Esther (9:1): וּבִשְׁנֵים עָשָׂר חֹדֶשׁ הוּא-חֹדֶשׁ אֲדָר, בִּשְׁלוֹשָׁה עָשָׂר יוֹם בּוֹ, אֲשֶׁר הִגִּיעַ… Continue reading Sea, or: Sky

Prismatic mystery

A personal prosery prompt I am certainly not one to stop and smell the flowers, let alone photograph them, but several weeks ago a tree beckoned at me, its leaves purple at the top, flaming in the middle, and healthy green below. How beautifully leaves grow old, how full of light and color. ‘Are their… Continue reading Prismatic mystery

Short story: Comfort (III)

Wait for it... wait for... The tall blonde's thin cotton skirt swished as she walked by the loquat trees not far from the edge of the sidewalk. Behind her the sun continued its descent towards the distant Mediterranean, its beams piercing through the branches. The Star of David hanging from the her tanned neck sparkled.… Continue reading Short story: Comfort (III)

The skeptic’s kaddish for the atheist, 43

Given my dazedness and state of shock last July, I had no preconceived assumptions nor expectations of my sudden, unanticipated status as a mourner. Then, abruptly, in the middle of Papa's funeral, I found myself stung sharply with tenderness towards the friends and family who had been closest to him. Papa lived a rather solitary life due… Continue reading The skeptic’s kaddish for the atheist, 43