JoinedJune 23, 2014
Articles111
This morning, I dropped off our son Noah, our first born, at Miami International Airport, where he’s by now flown off to Israel on a gap year program.
Somewhere between heart and home there is that place of coronation, a throne of tin, twine, copper, and oil.
Was I right then to keep it, this piece of Israel forever mine, something to hold, something to carry, like a gift or a found treasure or a stolen trinket?
Chillent sounds like they can be the coolest chassidishe wedding band in the land or open a jamband festival featuring the likes of Phish, Gov’t Mule, and Blues Traveler.
Six poems from the fractured center to the frayed edges.
A neighbor prosecutes God and love from her 10th floor balcony.
What might have happened, how might the situation have turned had this humble mother in rags not been Rachel?
It’s always too late to make peace after the war begins.
