You call the green-white

fox moving thru’ a corridor

of dirt

wet coldness grips face

nose and throat.

You look at an old man

wearing a black beret

thinking of grandpa

reading a book.

A quiet air of calm reigns

in the stealthy air

another day toward X-mas

one more day to Chanukah

as Vivi says

it’ll be a great New Year 5777

with a great meaning

as messaged by the Kabbalah.

The poet recalls his Muse

with three sevens in her


relationships exist throughout

the endless universe

the sense of sacred


What will the message

bring us eventually?




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