Widen the circle and bring me a broom,
as I marry off the last of my kids.
My old mother gets up from her bed,
puts on a nice dress. Her good cheer returns.
Play louder! Play faster! Band, you can’t sleep.
Watch the new couple lean in for a kiss,
then uncork the wine, serve the fish, slice the meat.
Those who have left, disappeared, are now missed.
The ghosts of our dead can only watch as we dance.
We prance like the Cossacks, then break into song.
They say the mob’s armed and plans to attack.
Never mind, seize this brief moment of joy.
They’ll come for us all, the babies, the brides,
and again the world will toss us aside.
Maria Dylan Himmelman lives in the Hudson Valley. Her debut poetry collection, Sundry Abductions, was awarded the first annual Hanging Loose Press Founders Award.
Photo by Jessica Burnett on Unsplash
