Hebrew Lullaby

 Circles recreate their yarn, lines of soldiers bursting to escape that hinged compartment that you call your heart. I’m waiting for your eyes to surprise me, I want to cut them out and wear them in my ears, black diamonds, black pools of Hebrew wisdom, and then I could forget you.  All roads lead to tunnels I’ve arranged and re arranged over years.

*

Faces change

lines crack

under the pressure

of a lazy afternoon

where the blue

finally shines through.

Poetry