The Brooklyn Rail

Blessing for the Day Before the War

blessed be the day when the world is full
of boredom and untouched hours
minds granted
to petty daydreams, visions
of each other’s pockets

where were you when—

sweetness of humanity unprepared for itself
the day that comes
back when it is no longer possible

Staying

nobody ever believes the war is coming

knowing everything we know—

even when it roars, invisible
above your head
and the televised elsewhere becomes your life

even when the fear bends
everything familiar and it no longer is—

as long as there is a single untouched shred—

it is not a gamble
not a refusal to seek refuge
no, this is the oldest story

of staying

where your home is

sadder than the war itself
the story of staying home

The State of Panicles

It started out with a photograph of a catalpa tree.
It started with the blooming of chestnuts
and catalpas came next and it’s the panicles
of catalpa opening into memories of panicles
of chestnuts which came first, chestnuts definitely
came first. It all started with blooming of chestnuts
that looked like my chestnuts in Ukraine but also
pink ones I’ve never seen before and seeing both
kinds of panicles and pointing out all of the panicles
to my daughter who’ve never seen Ukrainian
chestnut panicles who never even met
my father outside the rectangle inside my phone
who never seen chestnuts in bloom until this spring
her first spring in New England because it’s the move
from California to New England that came first.
It didn’t come first but it came and then out
of nowhere the photograph of a blooming catalpa
which bloomed in Ukraine first before catalpas bloomed
here in New England. First I saw the blooming catalpa
in the rectangle of my phone a photograph
my father sent me of a tree blooming
at a Ukrainian cemetery with a large wall filled with names.
The names from the other war that came first before
this war that came before we moved
from California to New England. The war came
first and then we moved and it wasn’t because
of the war and also everything happened because
of the war the one that came first. Now
everything that happens, happens because
of the war that came second.
First my father sent me a photo of a blooming catalpa tree
he saw blooming at a Ukrainian cemetery where our dead
are buried and where he went to put a few stones
on the grave stones for our dead from the war that came
first even if it was called the Second for us it was always
the First it was always the First thing that came because
when we came into the world it was everywhere because
wars that end don’t quite end and certainly not this war
that came for us
first and foremost. I was driving
to school where I work where my daughter is a student
and missing a few teeth makes her smile sweeter
and looking at blooming catalpa panicles is sweeter together
and first I was just pointing at chestnuts and then
a week or two later I was pointing at catalpas
and first I didn’t realize it’s exactly the same catalpas
at almost the same time blooming here in New England
and blooming in Ukraine at the cemetery at the tiny shtetl
that came first and at first I just thought how beautiful very
beautiful—
the panicles and then I thought and then I felt and I couldn’t
stop crying while driving while sitting while staring
at the photographed catalpas and the catalpas through
the window of my car through the eyes of my daughter
who comes first always and always comes first
and with panicles it’s never just one flower but all
of them together blooming first and then blooming in both places.