A Jewess of Today 


She stands
by the crossroads.
Auburn coils tucked beneath her beret.

She stands,
rifle by her side.
Desert coloured uniform
dusty from the roadside.

She waits.
Dark eyes gazing into distant mirage.
Waiting for a bus
Or kindly driver
To return her to her unit


Generation Game

She never passes a reflective surface
Without stopping first to glance
then to admire
her eyes of blue, locks of gold.
Maya, my daughter’s daughter

Mirrored echoes of the past,
the not so long ago.
Sitting in a deep chair,
gazing at her mirror’d image
whilst the mobile hairdo lady
perms her blue-gray hair.
Sarah, aka Sadie, my beloved mother.

Sadly, she no longer
gazes at reflections,
avoids all mirrors,
sits hunched
in a corner armchair
asks nurse for arsenic
and waits to die.

Maya will only know her
from pictures on our walls
or painstakingly filled albums
and so it goes……….