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Each rose is an island
of the promised peace,
the eternal peace.
Inside the petals
of each rose dwells
a sapphire bird called
“And They Shall Beat Their Swords.”
And it seems so
close, the light…
On the white garments of my great-grandfather
the cross of the middle ages flames anew.
My great-grandfather sits at the seder,
holding a staff from a wild almond tree
to rouse the forefathers.
Not…