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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