Angels—by Barbara D. Holender

Jacob’s angels had direction they went up, they went down they were disciplined they walked the ladder Mine are irrational Caught on my pear tree there glittering in the breeze they toy with the willful sun the errant leaf Some say Jacob’s angels mirrored his irresolute soul up/down yes/no Tell me, you who strung those Read the full article…

Geriatric Picnic—by B.J. Yudelson*

We are at a Catskill resort to celebrate my parents’ 50th anniversary. Even in its heyday, the Homowack would not have been up to my family’s standards. It’s not that it wasn’t fancy enough—my parents gravitated toward rustic North Carolina lodges. It just attracted a different type of guest, those from Brooklyn or the Bronx, Read the full article…

Soup—by Barbara D. Holender

Ths obligation was fulfilled with soup. No mother’s plaint of unrequited care survived a fiery penitential brew. I heard my mother’s voice splinter like bones against her mother’s aged plucking needs, but there was soup and there was the Fifth Commandment. Now disappointed mothers wait for signs while daughters dream recurrently of symbols. Guilt is Read the full article…

Balaam—by Barbara D. Holender

“Come and curse this nation for me” (Balak, Num. 22:6) “Since God has blessed them, I cannot reverse it.” (Balak, Num. 23:20) How can I tell you what came over me? Not that the beast found her voice– any simple sorcerer can pull that trick– but that I, the most articulate of men, lost mine. Read the full article…