A poem harvested from my forthcoming (2023) memoir, Angels on the Clothesline.  

I am so enthused to be sharing this vignette—the first being shared from my memoir, Angels on the Clothesline, due to be published in 2023.  Stay tuned for a cover reveal and more!

ORANGE STARS

 

Your mother lost her
sense of smell in The War
She doesn’t know when or where
just that it’s gone and never came back
But once
peeling an orange at the sink
suddenly she calls out
Gotenyu!
Holds the orange up as if the sun
had dropped   cool   into her hand
It smells like a million tiny stars exploding
She brings it close to her nose   breathes in deep
tears rolling down her cheeks
Like a million tiny stars she whispers now
You think you hear her
thank her mother
for the miracle

Listen to Ani read “Orange Stars”

 

If you have not signed up yet to be part of my Inner Circle, please do.  That way you will not only receive early sneak peeks from Angels on the Clothesline, you will also be given the opportunity to receive an Advance Review Copy!  You can join my Inner Circle here(You will receive Chapter 1 of The Tremble of Love (30+ pages from print edition and ~30 minutes of audio).  Soon I will be sending out the opening of Angels on the Clothesline.)

 

Yours in the joy of creating,

Ani

 

G'Mar Chatima Tova

I close with this customary greeting whose literal meaning is: "a good final sealing."  I will add to that:  May you know the love of which you are made.  What better than to know this? 

With gratitude,
Ani

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