Like scribes, they lean closer, watching
the old men he blessed for long life stand and listen.
All week they studied what he is about to say,
worked in pairs through the translation,
the Hebrew taken from the Yiddish and corrected.
Born after his death, they want more than stories,
want to feel what it is like to be in that room.
Under the white tablecloth, a handkerchief
wrapped around his hand binds his soul.
During Exile everyone is broken and crushed,
his father-in-law said, looking only at him.
projected across the study hall, downloaded
and captioned, he closes his eyes and explains.
ISSUE: Spring 2012