Poem: Sukkot 5785

Sukkot 5785

On Sukkot we embrace 

and are embraced

by vulnerability.

We leave our warm beds 

and go outside

to live in a house 

with a leaking roof.

It has no locks.

Sometimes not even doors.

As I prepare

to leave my warm bed

and to step into the air

I think of those

who had done so already.

The holidays were ending.

Their routines were about to begin anew

but then they never came home

and we don't know where they are

or whether or not 

they remember their beds.