I sensed the strange windless drifts before a storm,
bereft of an answer to why my life was almost taken.
Her high woman's voice in the lull, a support of
supreme intensity, there was a darkening, a blue
bruise of a sky, an air of the past in the way the
dusk lifted. Because she was telling me
precisely how I had to survive, watching the
faces, leaning back against the years.
How I escaped is the question in the palm
that passes, asking for prayers for the injured.
I have sometimes been wise, she was wiser
still, speaking in ancient Aramaic, a song of
Journal With Sky
Sky, the road and trunks around the bend. A prison, a skylark.
Snow from yesterdays. Melts on a warm February day. Clouds
spell the names of those who have died. We were caught
in a whirlwind of loss, we were caught in a whirlwind of bliss, we
remembered Ezekiel, and the visions of stark warning.
A prison, a handful of sparrows flying while I drink a
cup of coffee at the cafe.
Who has forgotten? Who has spoken to a youth who
will save a life?
Judy Katz-Levine has a new book out, The Everything Saint, available from Amazon and published by WordTech Communications. Her other books include Ocarina and When The Arms Of Our Dreams Embrace. A chapbook, When Performers Swim, The Dice Are Cast, emphasizes her work in jazz. Poems and translations have appeared recently in Salamander, Blue Unicorn, Ibbetson Street, Miriam's Well, Writing In A Woman's Voice, and Peacock Journal Anthology. Also a jazz flutist, she enjoys playing jam sessions in the Boston area.