Latkes for Hanukkah

Dollops of grated potato
ladled into a hot skillet
slick with a sheen of cooking oil.
No one can find the menorah,
but it doesn’t seem to matter – 
my wife’s father lights a candle
and recites a Hebrew prayer.



Aunt Vi’s Cocoons

A votive honoring Aunt Vi
flickers on the kitchen island
while K. bakes pecan cookies –
one of her aunt’s famous recipes
written by hand on index cards,
then given as a wedding present
in a little cedar box. 



Winter in Vermont Before College

I wish I could reclaim the time
we spent whole winter afternoons
sledding the hill behind your house.
When it started to get dark out
one of our parents rang a bell
at the back door, beckoning us
in for dinner by the wood stove. 



Livre Sensuel

Halfway through reading War & Peace,
hundreds of pages behind her,
she is reminded that a book –
one in very physical form –
excites lust: how it spreads open
of its own weight on a table
and offers itself up to you. 




Construction Crane

At dusk, a construction crane stands
dormant, though its hook seems to lift
a star and place it in the sky.
The polished metal block that hangs
by cables off its latticed boom
reflects the sunset, glowing bright, 
as if eager to do more work.



Jump Rope 

After dinner, windows open, 
a whistling sound comes from next door: 
the neighbor uses a jump rope
to work out on her patio –
a high pitch as it slices air
and rapid slaps against the ground
with each brisk arc over her head.