for Eden Yerushalmi & Carmel Gat
At first I missed my undefiled pain-free body.
If I’d known day would never come for me again
that night would be eternal, one dark hour stretching
to a hundred, a year of hours, I would’ve said
separation of night & day, moon & sun, stars
1st & 4th days of בּראשית, was what I missed
most. When numb delirium of pain passed
I knew hunger. I didn’t know it would keep
me awake, make this endless night longer.
When my legs ached, muscles seized, I missed
dance most, needed to move until too weak to stand
what I missed most was wind, our early morning
easterlies that veer southeast before noon
the breeze on my skin, air moving, going somewhere.
