Acedia, Threading

The old Jewish market, paved over and renamed; Auschwitz, where relatives’ ashes lie scattered, or swept off into forests; the apartment building in the Lodz ghetto where once my grandmother pushed around a pram filled with earth and root vegetables to keep close as she labored; the old Jewish cemetery, a great-grandfather and a great-grandmother who actually have gravestones there, among the trees and weeds and grasses that have overtaken the grounds.