Monday, May 14, 2012

In Loving Memory

 In loving memory of a lost friend 


After Marc Chagall’s  Above the Town (1915)

Silently, cloudlessly, we fly
swimming, legs and arms over
roofs and fields and streetlamps.
We skate over and above a sky
of white, our breath trailing behind us,
around the leaves and their small voices,
like notes of a fiddle.

Oh how – how do you do
it, without falling or slipping
or landing on a green roof
and bruising it blue? No one asks,
but everyone wonders. They all
look into the sky canvas and squint,
and inwardly sigh all day, all night.

It is a dream which only you and I see.
And nobody else.
And nobody else.

© Nora Nadjarian

Published in   "All of Our Lives: An Anthology of Contemporary Jewish Writing  " (ed. Sarah Shapiro) Targum Press, 2009


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