You And The Jew Poem by Frank Bana

Listen as the snow falls
To the song the Jew composes
He who looks to the hills
Tends the fields and the young lambs
And suffers out of turn to be suffering

See how the Jew
Who knew nothing of the art of the sea
Yet lays no hand of claim upon the land
Walks distant among the hills and stony paths
That lead him on to a barren tree

You must burn if you seek him now
Under high suns which crack the skin
Until you find his small barren tree
His eyes failing as the fine print dances
Like fireflies in the light of evening

You may finally locate his name
In computer files of grubby visa sections
Accented by tongues that never come to rest
In conference rooms and airline terminals
In trains that run on single tracks

But if you find him, don’t expect
To live with more than light on the horizon
For the hands that long to overturn the candle
And their mouths that hunger to swallow the flame
Will occupy your trails ever again.