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TY NEWYDD
In the gently aging house,replete with writersthere are endless roomsin which the muse dartsdispensing her soul.I prefer to sit with the catcurled in an overstuffed chairher head risingand falling imperceptiblyour breaths harmonic.We commune in unspoken dialoga language of silencebespeaking volumesof our shared existence. First published in The River, Sandy River Review, March 2024https://sandyriverreview.com/2024/03/30/seeing-you-again-next-stop-riding-ty-newydd/
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MY RABBI (PART 2)
I tell him I am thinking of becominga rabbi, someone just like him,a man who saw so many throughall manner of crises, joyous events. He sits back in his unsteady chair,one he refuses to replace, this onefinally broken in, he says with thatgentle smile that melts anger, anxiety. You would do well at it, I…