A Yom Kippur Poem

On Yom Kippur eve

I walked in the forest

with my giant dog

and stumbled down a path

to the fast-flowing river

where I admired

the upside-down trees and clouds

and felt

the rightside-up perfection

of my life.

I didn’t want

to sit indoors

talk to god

hear that bleating

ram’s horn

not while the sky was full of sheep

and the dog was swimming with strong strokes

(soon to shake off a rainbow of droplets)

not when the gates were already wide open,

and there was nothing to regret,

as the sun descended

into the weeds.