After the War,
My grandfather had to decide: United States of
America, or Israel.
(Or so the story goes.)
And he chose,
And his choice became mine
He had great dreams,
They all had great dreams:
Shedding the old to embrace
To start anew
In the Newland.
(Only the new soon resembled the old, but that’s another story.)
It took me twenty-six years
To overturn my grandfather’s decision.
(I recently read that America is the real home of the Jews. Not
Sure about that, but the living here, summertime and all, is easy.)
The darn thing is this: I drown in my desire to return to Europe.
War and all.