At Yad Vashem – Martin Golan

Death
is muted here
caught
like anger in the throat
when words are not enough

Beside me a woman is whispering
to a stone of many numbers
then her eyes close and her lips are sealed
She is lost
in the haze
of a murdered past
And her prayer is hushed
she is breathing without air
Her sorrow choked
into silence
into smoke
into breathless
echo:
El maleh rachamin
O Lord of mercy!

I am alone
six million times
in the hills
of Jerusalem

Martin Golan’s new novel, One Night With Lilith – about a man convinced his wife is the Lilith of biblical legend – has just been published. His other fiction and poetry have appeared in many journals, including “Pedestal,” “Jewish Currents,” and “Poet Lore.”

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