A Holy Sister Dressed In Black
A Holy Sister Dressed in Black (first line)
by Moishe Kaufman
A holy sister dressed in black
accompanied by a group of friends
Wide eyed she gazes far and deep in thought
at the moon in the summer night.
Her breasts are round and ripe
resilient, supple as a young pine
Her every step makes harmonious sound
A golden stalk in summer before harvest.
I won’t complain if you don’t remain
I know you are the queen bee
who takes her lover to the sun
and from there he never returns
Dying on high is the greatest joy.