315

Rabbiner, 1914

His gaze is steady.
Black and white in his beard, and
                                In the cloth
Of his tallit, threads of which trail
Across his lap. Black the kippah
                                At his crown,
Out of which wild hair blows,
                                Pale gossamer,
Manipulated by a shallow breeze.

His hands are bloodless as after
Illness, and in the right a tzitzit
                                Lies limply
Held between ring and little finger.
Its black and white wind endlessly,
                                A trail of stars
Across the darkness of his shawl.

Light plays across his brow, and in
The slight concave
Of the bridge of his fallen nose.
                                He seems to
Watch for a motion in the air.