The Jewish New Year and my birthday converged in one week;I was 5,718 years younger than the world!The day before was startlingly beautifulas though summer had never sweltered, as though rains had neverpersisted. My cousin and I chatted on the plaza of the libraryuntil she left to register voters, and my friends collected meso we …
and then the “you” wrote a poem in response, I wanted to writeyou (the real you) a poem about the person you praisein your book’s very last poem—the mentor who seemedperfectly in control of his life in a way you sense you maynever be in control of your own. Your homage bestowsgratitude and admiration. And …
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