Yehoshua November

The Buttonhook

My son sprinted to each traffic light / in his black hat and dark Sabbath suit / while the elderly congregation two miles away / waited for him to help lead morning prayers.

Selected Poems

When we found out our daughter had gone deaf, / I did not question God’s fairness

— from “Falling From The Sky”

The Soul In A Body

is like an old Russian immigrant / looking out his apartment’s only window.

Between Lifetimes

But love is a rusting machine / you call to have serviced over and over again, / hoping the pieces won’t have to be replaced. Again and again / you apply the grease until the engine inches forward.

At The Request Of The Organization For Jewish Prisoners

Three bearded rabbinical students in a rented car, / trunk filled with menorah kits and grape-juice bottles, / we pulled away from the all-male yeshiva in New Jersey / and headed west, into the heart of Pennsylvania, to celebrate / Chanukah with the Jewish inmates of Allenwood’s many prisons.

Cleaning Out Zaide’s Apartment

His scent still lingered in the black heat / of his darkroom, where he spent decades / developing his meticulous world / of insects and flowers.