Seder

Dry winds blow
The last clouds fly by
Blowing, disturbing kicking up the sky

Hot sands flow
My feet stepping by
Sweeping, drooping wondering why

Boiled water purges
over cracks and seams
Seeking smothering the unseen

Wood snaps and crackles
a hot flame burns in the lights
Scalding decaying, administering last rites

Feather light we check
Admonish that we did forget
Explaining, feasting and now it is all set

Cool winds blow
Retreating clouds sing
Ushering out the last crumbs of spring

(Please also visit my Arava Blur Passover blog)

My Wife Likes to Hang Things

A kitchen witch hangs in my house
Colored glasses drooping over copper stays
The hot wind strums the strings
As the dangling collection sways

A stained hand dangles down
Blue and gold ribbon affixed to a board
My wife likes to hang things
A twisted leathered bridle, tacked with a cord

Hanging like silent wind chimes
One end free the other moor
Blue bottles dangle down
Dancing over the kitchen floor

The slow and shifting drifting waltz
The pendant utensils hops
My wife likes to hang things
Now slowing but never stops

Next to the witch twirls a nursery mobile
Too fast it spins and sings
Together they fly with a gentle breeze because
My wife liked to hang things