on fire for 298 days and still
she is standing. The streets
are dim but snow floats
like summer fireflies. In Odesa,
I hear the people gather
to watch a man-sized menorah
ignite the public dark. In my
Papa’s home, war won’t stop
celebration. On the land
we were forbidden to light
candles, they now burn
under rocket-fire. The Jews
still Jews, but now Ukrainian,
they can be Jewish, beyond
the skin and nose they can
glow in a dark where everyone’s
afraid the sky will fall and grateful
when another morning comes.
