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Jewish Childhood Paris 2015 - A poem floats free in Paris
Wednesday, 17 June 2015 10:30

I have been chasing my birth mother, Alice, around the city of Paris. She is elusive and has escaped for the past seven years. There is a thin veil between  this world and the other. It is very difficult to puncture it and bring it into my time. Writing poetry is that way, right on the tip of my tongue, shy about leaping onto the page.

This last week I took a master poetry class in Paris. For some reason, the location, in the Marais, the time of year, almost her yortzeit, the anniversary of Alice’s death, something about the sound of my fountain pen which I had just refilled that morning, writing on blank unlined paper, took on the voice of my mother, who died in 1943. She wrote herself onto the page. How do I explain that? I can’t. Just something about writing poetry.  The poem comes forward invited in by my desire to make that contact. Why this past week? You can make up as many reasons as I can.

Thanks for joining me on my adventure and reading A Jewish Childhood Blog.