I know Gershon Legman held the opinion that limericks were not meant to be clean, but this is a family post, so, sorry! Or, you're welcome!
Where is the space in a three day Yontif to balance communal responsibilities and solitary recharging practices?
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?
College was the grand disappointment. It was the kidnapping of my inner self, an abrupt shaking of everything I held dear, a promise of salvation that was horribly forgotten.
Come along with me on a walk through both actual and virtual landscapes and maybe you'll find something, too.
