Who will make chicken soup for the dejected?
I smashed my father’s statues and stood alone in the fragmenting dark
“When I feel most broken / pulled apart / when every door unhinged / is opened / but feels closed”
Praise that comes after pain
We are all together walking home, on the road of teshuva
As we prepare to trace the world’s beginnings, may we choose life
Are we bound to the same grave fate?
Searching for Isaiah in a time of crisis and pain
A poem about the wisdom in female friendship and laughter
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