Marion Goldstein

Aspirations

It isn’t the first time Frankie hauls himself to court
wearing red dreadlocks and an attitude
polished in the streets of Newark, but it’s the first time 
he shows intent on gaining custody of his half-
siblings, those twins of too much abuse.

He has “aspirations” for them he tells the judge,
a natural blonde reminiscent of Miss Rheingold
back in the seventies when someone black
as Frankie was as voiceless as the wooden
bench he stands before, telling his story—how the boy,
panhandling outside the supermarket is tangible to him
and the girl, living in a shelter is tangible
and his tiny apartment with no heat is tangible
even the bus tickets that arrived too late and the
detective at missing persons are tangible

And I want to whisper to Frankie, “something is off here”
some intangible use of tangible, elusive as justice
and I consult a thesaurus in my head
for the right word as the judge listens to his screed
a tangram of words so tangled with the original
sins of their jailed father, who is forever tangential

as I am
witnessing the  judge, imposing in her black robe
regal on the elevated bench
inviting Frankie to instruct her in grammar
“What do you mean? I don’t understand”

and her kindness, rises like heat from a stone
warming the courtroom and everyone in it
as the three
who need saving become
tangible.

Marion Goldstein is a psychotherapist from New Jersey. She has published two memoirs, Hard to Place, Embracing the Sign, and a poetry collection, Architecture of the Unpronounced.(North Star Press) Her recent novel Hoops of Steel as published in 2024. Her poetry and essays have been published in literary journals including Ars Medica, The Watershed Review, America, Friend’s Journal, Adanna, Memory House, The Christian Science Monitor, Presence, and Tiferet. Her web site is mariongoldstein.com