Last Night

Slim blue candles
burn in silver
holders of menorah.
On this last night
of Hanukkah, no holder
remains empty. Eight
days of prayers always
said by my father,
head bent over candles’
light. When I was
a child, Grandpa was at
head of table, joined in prayer
by son and daughter.
My grandparent’s kitchen
was our center, heart of each
holiday. Heart beats faintly now.
We are not all together. Most of us
do not know how to say proper
prayers to accompany holidays.
But, the blue candles–nearly the color
of Grandma’s glass dishes–burn on.
We remember.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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2 Responses to Last Night

  1. lynn__ says:

    Beautiful tradition…Yeshua is light for Jews and Gentiles, all nations now.


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