The birds chirp a high pitched
mourning song in rounds,
and the cat winds around my leg,
so eager for any kind of touch.
The lemon tree is full of fruit,
next to it, the lonely trampoline
is reduced to a burnt metal frame.
Inside the house, once rich with
warmth and laughter and comfort,
a sippy cup lies on its side
no longer holding any milk
and men’s clothes hang
in closets waiting patiently, endlessly
and dry, cracked soap sits in a dish
next to towels parched from disuse
and bullet holes in windows
let the reluctant light in.
There is soot on the ground
and on the walls of the houses,
and the cat lies on the gravel,
her white fur grey with ash.
Hanna Yerushalmi grew up in the Midwest, where kindness is a priority and listening is the first step in a relationship. An ordained liberal rabbi, Hanna works as a couples therapist and along with her husband, is raising four children by teaching them about kindness and the value of listening.