Saturday, September 14, 2019

#BlogElul 14: Learn

  Attending Night School 


My grandmother Yette wrote her name
on scraps of paper and added them to
a pile of completed homework—
She practiced each letter 
as if remaining in this country 
depended on the way each
letter adhered to form
Twice a week she rode a bus
to her evening English class—
Sometimes she brought the teacher
a piece of homemade  honey cake
When she died a stack of her written name
remained on a bookshelf 
between a prayer book and a shoebox
filled with Yiddish and Polish writings










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