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The Mother enters, carrying the dead Child in her arms; approaches the pile.The Mother:Hello, dead children.I brought my son here.He’s dead. He’ll lie with you.Dead Children:You brought…
With gentle fingers
The rain is softly
Playing sad melodies
On the black instrument of night.
We are sitting in the darkness,
Each in his own house
(The children have fallen asleep)
Listening…
It is not a grave that opens up to us in this book, but a human heart. the memoirs that are now seeing the light for the first time would have deserved to be published a long time…
“The birds, Regina! The birds! The birds!” he cried out. “You don’t hear? Our child…Issachar!…Issachar!…Regina!…That bird…Issachar…that bird…that bird.…”
When Luna entered the room with her bridegroom…
I wipe the dust off my books
with a small t-shirt, an old t-shirt
which was once my son’s. We have
more dust this summer than last,
and its composition is different…
Chicago, Ill., 12/7/15 My dear Girl:The enclosed money order for $40.00 represents the forty dollars collected at my Birth Control Lecture for you. I am sure it will come very handy, as you must be…
A choked wail . . . Mama paces around the narrow room as though asking for something, her hands grasping her head and striking her heart, and with sobs caught in her throat, she calls out:“Woe unto me…