Eli Spivakovsky Poems
Requiem For My Sister
I can't say you were covered in flowers because that's not the Jewish way, we cover the grave in stones.
I remember when you showed me the shape of a bird under your eye, it looked like a flying swallow, but so tiny, it could be mistaken as a freckle.
You also showed me your short life-line. 'Look, see? ' you asked, showing me your palm, and it was indeed short....
How are your bones decaying, o beautiful one?
So pretty, you'd inherited the helix for that.
I remember how you left home when we were kids, how you turned the street corner and I running after you, deploring you ...
Your Pacific urges,
crack through old technology
and the international telephonic corridors
of epic, sonic, optic rush and pause
conducting and over-lapping,
delaying the sound of rain
in the background
where you live