Hour 10_Winter in Miami

Let me say this upfront: I’m from the Northeast of the US
and everything about Miami in December
feels wrong.
Palm trees and halter tops
(do people still wear these?)
just shouldn’t be a winter thing.

Working this boat
with Captain Contemptible
does not arouse holiday cheer.
Still faithfully
3 sails a day
and a sunset cruise
(no different from the other sails
but with the mystique of changing light
the name changes, so too the price)
we put on our best keep-our-jobs
happy faces
for the tourists.

The crew live on land
except for me –
I bunk on another boat
on Key Biscayne –
So there’s none of the camaraderie
of shared living and working:
We do not share our lives;
we do not share so much as a meal.
When the work is done
we scatter –

My birthday in early December passes
(mercifully)
without notice, without mention
Miami is awash in Christmas
And in its ostentatious way
the city erects displays
blasts music 

strings lights.

I grew up with Chanukkah
now not so much a celebration
not a necessary affiliation
but something deeper
a link to ancestors
something that holds me –
The light of Chanukkah
it is this that speaks to me
The light that grows over eight days
from a single light
into a blaze.

I think of this as I step out
onto halyards
as I trim sails
as I answer tourists’ questions.

And then, I see it
one night on a sunset cruise:
there, facing the water
a huge ridiculous menorah –
the shamash and first two nights’ lights burning (electrically) bright
Each night after that I look for it
as its kitchy-flame grows
Each night I imagine I have set it alight
and when the menorah comes into view
I murmur the prayers
which for some odd reason
I have not forgotten

I know these lights have been set before me
in blessing
That there is no one to thank;
no one to join me in prayer
does not matter.
For centuries these prayers
have been uttered
and they continue still.
For six successive nights
on this watery bucket
I continue my joyful prayer.
Silent to my crew,
it is my secret
with eternity.
Prayer, this night here
and the world over.

2 thoughts on “Hour 10_Winter in Miami

  1. Oh. I love everything about this prayer. You managed to elaborate on isolation and connection all at once. Beautiful. You are holding these two opposites together, and you set the tone by holding Christmas time and Miami together. I also really like how you matched that by showing the people you work with but don’t share a meal with. Excellent poem. One of my favorites that I’ve read.

    1. teriharroun, greatly appreciate your comments. I felt very unsure of this piece. But your mention of the opposites of isolation and connection help me to see it. I’m so happy you liked it. Thanks so much for reading it!

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