I have come to sojourn in desert vastness where the wind won’t cease Purple glow on fallen branches, palm tree fronds Gleaming copper eyes surveil
On Suffering after Wislawa Szymborska Pity it insists on visiting the innocent, the absent-minded and ill-prepared. It greets an old tailor as he tucks away
Yortsayt The word came up with an acquaintance. I told him it’s the Yiddish words for “year” and “time” combined: it’s that time of year,
This poem originally appeared in the University of Portland Magazine. The mask feels at home on my face Like a worn key in a
This week, Jewschool will be posting sample poems from Heshbon HaNefesh, an upcoming series of poetry readings on Zoom and Clubhouse. Here’s more about the