Shabbat Dinner
Lately (for the past fifty-five years, anyway),
Friday nights have been my tribulation.
They've kept me from enjoying the rituals we so loved,
By sequestering me in busy, boisterous restaurants,
Where I go to surround myself with laughter and conversation,
Hoping to emerge from the shadows of my loneliness,
Locate myself across the table from someone, anyone,
Who's sat down, to share dinner, with me,
Instead of between uninvited guests: quietude and solitude.
But after half a century, my soul remains unconsoled,
Since my family only dines with me as prewar memories
Of those sacred nights when we celebrated Shabbat at home.
04/03/09 - (3)
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