The Shofar from the Street

I rarely go to temple,

Though when New Year comes around,

I do not feel complete until

I hear the shofar’s sound.

 

Some synagogues stream services;

I listened for a while,

But the rabbi’s talk went on and on

And wasn’t quite my style.

 

I turned it off and went to sleep,

Yet while I calmly drowsed,

A noise disturbed my slumber

So I suddenly was roused.

 

It was a shofar from the street

And it was being blown

In the familiar rhythms

That, since, childhood, I have known.

 

My husband woke up also

To the blasts, both loud and clear,

Which, from right below our window,

Wished the world a sweet new year.