Yom Kippur in Boston

by Maxim D. Shrayer

Working in his kitchen garden
a gentle Jew is disregarding
thoughts of mammon as he gathers
what remains of his carrots,
his tomatoes, cukes, zucchinis,
ripe like time and sweet like heaven.
Now he must run to shul—
The Book of Life is almost full.

He’s silent, the loyal husband,
as he enters his old house,
sighs and pulls his coat on—
long and black, the old kaftan—
words whisper in his pockets
(“life’saracketlife’saracket”),
here a message from his daughters
(dancing words without commas),
there a note from his wife
(“love’sburningusalive”),
also letters from banks and lenders
(no escape from their senders).

Fiddling with his black kippah
he looks a bit preoccupied.
He stops to kiss his daughters and wife:
“You're the promise of my life,
honey, walnuts, and horseradish,
The Book of Life does not embellish,
make amends and seal your fate,
drink l’chaim and celebrate.”

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Maxim D. Shrayer is a bilingual writer in English and Russian and a professor at Boston College. His books include four collections of Russian-language poetry and a collection of English-language verse, Of Politics and Pandemics. Shrayer's new memoir, Immigrant Baggage, was published in 2023.