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Perhaps your only ritual is the Seder,
All that's left of what was once a Jew.
Suppose you've found the rest's no longer you,
Still working on a self that surfaced later.
Oh, yes, this one last bit of times gone by,
Vividly alive in prayer and song,
Endures, although the past for which you long
Remains rooted in a faith you now deny.

Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.