A New Dress

Today for the first time
after seven long years
I put on
a new dress.

But it's too short for my grief,
too narrow for my sorrow,
and each white-glass button
like a tear
flows down the folds
heavy as a stone.

-- Rokhl Korn, 1947

Found this poem last night, and while there are few sobering moments on this here blog, I felt it apropos to post on this rainy, sullen Yom Kippur eve. Nothing says guilt like a Holocaust survivor in an emotionally ill-fitted frock.

No blogging tomorrow, as I will be preoccupied with my 24-hour major crash diet.