Rubbish
Like embers burnt from the fire snuffed,
Left black as night, remains now dust.
The hollow core feigns the vast,
Hedged in the confines of pains from the past.
YET,
The crevice winks to the trickling stream,
drop by drop invites the waters gleam.
Embers turn and lose their night,
The hollow core quivers in fright.
Will the waters glint the surface touch?
Or,
Will the hedge too high withhold its rush?
The somber dust, the hollow core,
nay will answer as before.
Rivka Bent
3/2009
living in loss and gratitude 
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