I. “If the Night Could Get Up & Walk”
I cannot put my hand into
a cabbage to turn
on the light, but
the moon moves over
the field of dark cabbage and an
exchange fills
all veins.
The cabbage is also a globe
of light, the two globes
Last night
tossed in
my bed
the sound of the rain turned me
around,
a leaf
in a dried gully
from side to
side,
the sound of the rain took me
apart, opened to what is it?
breath caught in memory of
a deep sweetness
This season for us, the Jews —
a season of candles,
one more
on the seven-branched candlestick for
the seven days of the week,
but let it be seven
in the sense of luck in dice,
seven of the stars in
the constellations:
Orion, Aldebaran in the sky
