The Life of a Hebrew

About the poem: this poem was a poetry assignment about Passover at a Jewish retreat in Washington D.C.

 

The Life of a Hebrew

 

I was born with a fist

and a frown, keenly

aware of this dream.

 

From dawn ‘til the sun

meets the shade I sink

down to the soft mud.

 

I brook no arguments

as the air is sweaty

and I’m watched with

 

a stifled gaze. I avert

my eyes to my limbs,

hefty as feathers, and

 

think of nothing but a

juice of a few grapes.

I smile with a tight lip.

 

The air trembles, dust

simmers the pyramids,

sending my path into

 

the Valley. Faith does

not reason this desolated

life. Prayers don’t save!