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, imploring you ...
Corps Of Wet Doves
In the sun, the down on birds is luminous,
In the daisyfields, parachutes capture the glow of summer like papillion nets breathing oxygen and light.
Falling to earth, resuscitated by a strong breeze,
they flutter in their whitest silk like
an over-bloomed lily and call for more breeze
later still like
a late-blooming frangipani.
They are bridal canopies becoming sacronsanct