CULTURAL BAGGAGE

Like young boys

whose pockets bulge with

scraps of paper, stones and marbles,

we carry our history with us

in bags of dusty dreams.

Some people’s wallets have photos

of lovers or children;

in our breast-pockets

are stories in ancient tongues

and half-remembered holy legends

of a pocketful of heroes

all mixed up with

the heart-haunting notes

of soul-sweet Slavic melodies

and the kiss of kosher wine.

The guests from the past

at our Passover tables

stay with us through the year,

invisibly sharing our lives.

In our dreams,

King David strums silent songs

to himself on his harp,

and in our thoughts

Abraham and Solomon

mutely engage in discussion.

Moses looks up from his map

as he gets ready to cross

the desert of time.