Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


Butterflies in my hair,
butterflies in my head,
thoughts born to take flight.
In a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco,
I thought of you.
Tables in booths with curtains drawn,
in my mind like confessionals at church,
the soul waiting absolution.
The soul delights as it rises
through green fields of forgiveness. 
A small cubicle,
with an unspoken promise.
You spill your soul hoping for a new slate,
a new day.
All of us sinners,
with our poison of choice,
our path muddy,
on our journey.
Sins fester inside,
imprisoned in our being.
We bury them without allowing
them wings to fly,
as we watch our dreams die,
leaving them in a bottomless
ocean of pain.

Please join us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Walk With Me

Walk with me
among my people,
lives lost,
innocence stolen,
futures robbed.
Walk with me
among these glass towers,
engraved with numbers.
These numbers were once people,
steam rising through metal grates,
my insides tuning inside out.
Tears falling for those slaughtered,
their voices silenced forever.
I feel one with them,
even if I walk along the
borders of religion and faith.
I feel one.
I read quotes inscribed of survivors 
left behind,
my heart saturated in pain.
Images seared in my mind
of people dying,
families vanished,
children that will never grow up.
My great grandparents,
their home burnt to the ground,
murdered in cold blood.
My heart heavy,
I want you to walk with me,
through the gates of hell,
where humanity lost it's mind,
where humanity lost itself.

Stand beside me,
hold my hand,
feel my beating heart,
screaming in rage.
My veins filled with legacy of
and pain.
Walk with me as one,
feel my soul sigh in anguish.
Remember those silenced,
remember the past,
and let it never happen again. 

I was inspired to write this when I visited Boston this weekend. It was a short visit and I am grateful that I got to see it with Irina my son's girlfriend. If you wish to read more on it, here is a link, .
I felt moved in a way only this poem can explain. I am not a religious person but I've always felt spiritual. That always makes me feel guilty because of my legacy. I married a Christian and at the time it was hard for my parents and grandparents to accept because they were holocaust survivors.  Please meet us here, where we share our thoughts and our hearts.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012


Soft currents,
rough waves,
sadness floats through aquamarine waters.
Not long ago
we dipped in the cold ocean,
collecting shells,
talking about life and death,
blond little boys you loved,
that captured your heart,
adventures we stumbled on,
books we read.
We left footprints on the sand
as we shared food and laughter,
tales of fish caught,
tears of loss.
We escaped the rainstorm that day,
not knowing that it will be the last time
we would share these waters.
Goodbye my friend,
sleep with the angels,
may your spirit soar,
may you find peace,
you will be missed.

This is dedicated to my friend Sieg. She was my father in law's companion for the past eleven years. We have shared many days fishing and talking and a connection that will always be in my heart. She passed away yesterday 9/10/12 unexpectedly . It was a shock and sadness fills our hearts. Please meet us here, where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012


Her hair golden,
bounces softly.
Her eyes fields of green.
She holds my hand,
she wants to show me
the night sky.
The dream catcher hanging on her window,
catches nightmares and carries them away
from this room filled with love.
This room filled with stars she sees
in her chandelier
and princess Barbie dolls
that comfort her and
whisper tales in her ear.
She plays with my hair
and I laugh 
because her small hands feel
like waves in the ocean
comforting and dreamy.
I laugh because her words are tender
and her heart is open.
Her eyes sparkle as she calls me
Aunt Sushi,
instead of Aunt Mushy
and we giggle.
Her laugh infectious,
the sound of sweetness.
We read a book about the Statue of Liberty,
it took 214 crates to bring her to America.
We read a book about Abe Lincoln
and how he stuffed notes in his hat.
We pretend to be mermaids in the ocean,
while she tells me she loves purple and red.
She rests her head on my shoulder.
She holds me for a moment,
and captures my heart.
her eyes full of dreams,
her mind filled with imagination,
her heart full of love.

This is dedicated to sweet Jayden. The daughter of our dear friend that we visited in New-York
a couple of weeks ago . She is four and a half years old. We have not seen her since she was an infant.
She charmed us and inspired this poem. Mushy is my nickname so it was funny when she called me aunt sushi which I just loved. Please Join us here Where we
share our thoughts and our hearts.