The Lucky Ones
It was early April, a blustery day
Some stray flakes of snow drifted by
The low-hanging clouds were a wet-cement gray
Motionless under the rock-hard sky
Chodesh ha-aviv, the month of the spring
In early mid-March is almost never found
We wanted warm weather, birchas Tal we’d all sing
Yet, each morning showed us new frost on the ground
The small group outside shivered in the cold
Some alone with their thoughts, some speaking face to face
A mix of all ages, more young there than old
Compelled to stand outdoors, for that was their place
Those praying inside all shared a common feature
A time of remembrance, by daughters and sons
The cold ones outdoors knew they’re the lucky ones