For a certain Jewish holiday,
A sukkah is erected,
An outdoor booth whose shelter
Keeps inhabitants protected.
Religious people take their meals
And socialize and sleep
In this temporary structure,
So traditions they can keep.
Each year, a sukkah somehow
In my neighborhood appears
By the efforts of a local group
Of Jewish volunteers.
It’s very bare-bones, just enough
To signal its intent
And those of the religion know
Exactly what is meant.
The sukkah stays there for a week;
Its visitors are few,
But yesterday I passed it
And I noticed something new.
An unhoused man was stretched out,
Like the sukkah was his home,
A different way to use it,
But just perfect for a poem.
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