Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Annals of Avoidance

Days and days and days.  In a week.  So many ways to distract self.  The annals of avoidance would fill a book of the world.  What else could lure me to my closet and sort out my sock and tights, search for runs, holes, … Continue reading

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Back to Hard Ground

Trees are shedding their summer hair.What a tiny comb was used for grooming –tufts pile on the sidewalk, bright and seething. Where were we when we lost our crickets?Softly, softly they left us without a sound,dark-ness falls hard on hard … Continue reading

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Half-Baked Prayer (So Far, So Near)

Because I still have an oven, I can bake bread and knock on the crust: a hostage might answer.Because yeast is alive for a short time,embroider my name in your handmade world. Oh long reams of sheets on the ironing board, I … Continue reading

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Beyond Belief

To not know; to think only about the usual mixed feelings of crossing back to “real life” after a holiday, with tender feet and breathing open pores.  To be one of the ravers in the Israeli desert dancing under the starry October … Continue reading

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All the Days of Awe

The Days of Awe open on Rosh Hashanah and close on Yom Kippur. When my birthday falls on Rosh Hashanah, it gets lost in the birthday of the world; when it falls on Yom Kippur, celebrations turn sober and thin. … Continue reading

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Blasting Complacency

When the same word floats up from the most disparate-seeming characters.  My yoga teacher. My poetry mentor. A black hat rabbi. The list would be disparate enough without Baudelaire – but the dark prince poet was at the forefront in demanding … Continue reading

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Wording in the Rain

Finally it rains. Slapping and paddling the thick leaves; gliding down (d)rain pipes to be spit out onto recumbent weeds, filling puddles that I see mixed with the mesh of my screen window.  Puddles like a running woman, arms outstretched, hair … Continue reading

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Age, Relatives, Lo-Lee-Ta

My dad used to say, at age 65, I still haven’t decided what I want to be when I grow up. My daughter used to say, around age 5, I miss my childhood.  Traveling in their heads, forward, backward, time moving … Continue reading

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Slanting

Who knew, at the bend,a long slant sun would meet me, we’d eat a burst of tomatoes at night, already in shadow, a wall of sound, sonic cricketslike monks in saffron robes  lined from here to the mountains,soft, soft their silken … Continue reading

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The Past, Fellow Traveler

Sometimes the past is pressed against the present, or another present is present. While traveling in Europe you feel it like a veil of wind on your skin.  You scratch the surface, the past rises up through the transparency of summer.  Sometimes … Continue reading

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