Bring a name

The roots of trees bond the earth 
and hold the ground up.
Not the poplars, or the birches, 
threading the morning sun.

We trust our legs to walk what 
might have been a swamp.

Don’t bring me all the facts if you 
have them to hand.

Don’t bring me a suitcase, glasses, 
a woman’s wig,

Nor a menorah if I ask for 
candlelight.

Bring a name, like a bird with a twig
 in its beak,

As the wind carries grains of salt 
and grains of ash -

Hartzog, Zylberman, Cohen, 
Fleischman, Barron, Wolf -

I have no memory of them to keep 
this boat

Afloat on the green waters 
windowing their grave.
Who will see the stones my left
hand leaves?