When I forget, my essence won’t sing. Sediment rests on a bed of my blood. How can I love something and tie rocks to its wings? The creature with feathers— I let it sink. I’m trying to raise a
beautiful thing. Aliyah, to place high scripture on breath, the swiftest way to capture grace. The tropes eclipse, I am enrapt. Lofted pitches bless the text. On the synagogue ceiling blackcaps collect.
About the author:
Alyson Gold Weinberg is a 2022 Harbor Review Jewish Women’s Poetry Prize finalist and a 2021 Jeff Marks Memorial Poetry Prize finalist (Carl Phillips, judge). Her collection, Bellow & Hiss, a New Women’s Voices Chapbook Competition finalist, is forthcoming September 2023 (Finishing Line Press). *Alyson Gold Weinberg* *President, AWC