Yala Korwin

1933 - 2014 / Lvov, Poland

Passover Night 1942

not a crumb of leavened
or unleavened bread
and no manna fell

no water sprang out
of the bunker's wall
the last potato was gone

we sat and we munched
chunks of potato-peels
more bitter than herbs

we didn't dare to sing
and open the door
for Elijah

we huddled and prayed
while pillars of clouds
massed above our heads

and pillars of fire
loomed like blazing traps
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