A ‘Bop’ poem We carried memory through burning gates,our scrolls and language packed with loaves of flight,while empires rose and fell around our prayers,from Mainz to Fez, from Babylon through Spain—our bones in sundry soils, hearts in Zion,our way of life, an exile’s borrowed home.We kept our covenant with hope.From both ash and exile we… Continue reading Instructions, or: Not giving up→
