woman of letters
by Yermiyahu Ahron Taub
sometimes I wish the sequence of things
could have more closely
resembled the corpus of the Delft master—
a series of moments of contemplation,
delicate with import.
framed by pale glow and white marble,
how could my days not have assumed a
mantle of meaning?
the sun flowing through the many diamond frames
would have illuminated my letters from
old…
