Eight nights. Flicker: By definition, “natural agents that stimulate sight and make things visible.” $2 twinkle strands around an old washstand. Bright, reddened gold.
We try to be grown-ups, but troubles in herds invade our home, which is usually secular, and raise our anxiety to levels molecular. Such was our sad state when a package from Adda showed up on our doormat…
“A single perfectly-browned latke
slid onto his plate…” I stop reading,
cannot go further, until I digest this.
A devout Catholic feeding a Vietnamese
teenager a latke she prepared for him
in the town of Gladness, Connecticut?
“As quickly as they arrived, they were gone.
In this vicious assault just after dawn,
Our lost innocents, so wickedly killed,
Left us the voids that could never be filled.”
A toy train would be nice, to show me you care, but it will get old, and collect dust somewhere. Love never dies, and never grows old. With memories made there are stories to be told.