JVD

There were many here once.
Long neglected, the baroque
interior has been given fresh
paint, but is seldom used.

All the rabbis are dead.
On the Sabbath, old men
say uncertain prayers
from memory.

Cars pass outside.
The authorities, indifferent,
let cinder block buildings
crowd fine marble facing.
Its windows are covered
by tree limbs, like the hands
of a woman hiding her tears.