her gloveless hands presenting dusty news
her crisp brown eyes rising and quickly plummeting to her graying sneakers with each
squeaky swipe of the automatic doors as shoppers exit, heavy bags swinging from
Al Kiddush Hashem (to sanctify His name)
We will climb this last cold hillside
where morning leaves its breath
upon the uncomplaining stones,
its voice of light come just beneath
the sky’s grey arch and arbor.
Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows (Lk 12:7).