Two of them I knew quite well --
One worked next door for thirty
years --
But the third twin I mostly knew
Through his absence. Some distracted
fate
Had decreed that Don Diego
Quervedo
Y Sevilliano de Heisler, a Spanish
noble
From the soles of his gleaming
boots
To the tips of his thin mustaches
Should be born among Hungarian
Jews
Who had made a life in Brooklyn.
He took his exile with dignity.
Occasionally
He would glance around in shul and
shrug
Almost indiscernibly. In his
impeccable Hebrew
Lurked the slightest of Castilian
lisps.
