a teenager at the Wailing Wall I pushed a pinched scrap into a crack
the width of God a millimeter thick
handwritten a note that asked God/wall
to quarry back from stone my father’s legs
I bent my forehead to the sandstone cool and wept God/self
a cistern in the quarry in the evening my friends and I swayed
singing let brothers sit together the desert breeze dry as dust
the Jerusalem air crown-daisy cupped faces the way it sifts around our skin
looking back I know childish melodies the whole world
a very narrow bridge our foolish glow our cheeks like domes shining
shevet achim and the main thing is to have no fear at all
but the cobbled streets/God and crowds gam yachad and reflections
in gold inhaled exhaled prayer
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