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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