by Esther Cameron (July 2026)
………….for my father
.
All that seems constant in the affairs of men
Is but a sandbar in the stream of time:
Custom and place, and what was wisdom then,
Arts, now ridiculous, that were sublime,
Truths that appear self-evident no more,
Gifts hardly recognized until found missing,
Diseases grown to mock their ancient cure,
A crop of curses up from last year’s blessing—
We lived and throve upon a flowery isle,
And lo! its bank is shelving day by day;
The little goods, the little faiths we pile
Against the cutting wave, are swept away;
Nothing we have that will bear clinging to
Save God, who constantly creates the world anew.
.
.
Table of Contents
Esther Cameron is a dual citizen of Israel and the US, now living in Jerusalem. She is the founding editor of The Deronda Review. Her poems and essays have appeared here and there; she has published her Collected Works on Amazon and has had one book published by an academic press—Western Art and Jewish Presence in the Work of Paul Celan (Lexington Books, 2014).
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