My Father's Hands Spoke in Yiddish

Karen Shenfeld

My father's hands spoke in Yiddish,
the gantz megillah of curses,
complaints.

Ever in motion
they argued with themselves.

Gai kochen aufen yam! my father's
hands said. Go shit in the sea!

In the mamaloshen,
they spoke their last, impatient words,
rose palms up from the narrow bed—

Nu? Shoyn!
All right already!

then fell like bricks.

Their final kvetch
bemusing the angel of death.

Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6

Karen Shenfeld's works copyright © to the author.