Poem A Day - Poem for April 6, 2009

Today I actually wrote two poems, because I wrote one in anger and realized it was too personal to post. So I wrote another one that I posted on Poetic Asides with Robert Brewer. There are probably over six hundred fifty poems on there. Way more than last year!

Here is the prompt for today:

"I want you to write a poem about something missing. It can be about an actual physical object or something you just can't put your finger on (like "love" or "the spirit of Christmas" or something)." (from Poetic Asides with Robert Brewer).

Some of the poems were amazing. You should go to this website and just read the poems. Some of them tear out your heart!

Here is mine. I have to say that this was not easy to write and I probably should have written something a little lighter, but this is what I wrote. I have linked

some of the words you might not know for people who are not familiar with Passover and Jewish customs at Passover:

A Passover seder table

Empty Seats

by Barbara Ehrentreu

The last seder with Dad we set

the table in the dining room
with your embroidered tablecloth
stitched with intricate flowers

(that is now mine).Dad sat at the head.
We and our cousins, still in our teens
and twenties mocking his serious tone as he
kept a straight face amid

the laughter and joking.You played along

shushing us as if we were kids

at the kids table

We laughed at the archaic words –

seeing sexual innuendos in bible

language translated by well meaning
matzoh companies in free haggadahs

as we plodded through the entire first part,

each of us thumbing to the place where we’d eat –
Our stomachs rumbling, empty from starving
ourselves all day in wait.

I remember before we ate the meal – the ritual.

You used to love to break up the eggs
in the salt water. You and your sisters delighting

in remembering this family tradition.
Then at last your homemade gefilte fish, your
homemade chicken soup, your chicken, your
brisket, your potato kugel and tzimmes–

We ate until our stomachs almost burst

This year the seder table will be set

with the special plate sectioned

for charoset, bitter herbs, burnt bone,

hard boiled egg, horseradish, and salted water .
Though the food will probably not be
homemade, and I do miss your chicken soup.
Your face aglow with the steam
as you scooped out the fat.

Skimming the spoon across the bubbling
liquid until it was clear. While I hunted
for the good china, the good silver

kept under wraps to be used only

once or twice a year. I remember Dad’s
voice reassuring, gentle

and yours reminding and judgemental

telling me to use care as I
set your bird glasses, (now sitting

in (my kitchen cupboard), at each place.

Nineteen years for you
and thirty-seven for Dad

Around the seder table for all these
years there has been a space

no one can see but us,

your son and daughter
who can envision

what life would be like if

our children had grandparents. Haggadahs

copyright 2009 by Barbara Ehrentreu

A seder plate

The picture that has no caption is matzoh, the unleavened bread eaten on Passover.

Until the next time, please leave a comment or your own poem about what is missing for you.:)

Thank you to every reader and to my new friends on Blog Catalog. :)