6 May 2011. Sunny morning in May, fresh. Green power truck across the way--cab light blinking...
A moment's respite, visitors from afar. The stoic house finch, red breast, perched...
Natasha's plaintive miew--not for food, not for open door--just a plaintive miew. She trundles in, jumps slipperily onto white chair cushion, then up again and onto dresser by the window, sniffing a bit as she goes--the haggadah from B's father, inscribed in his hand, two white porcelain bowls, small and almost perfectly made....
Certain blessings, whichever they may be...
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