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Moving On

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My grief is like a storm which rumbles to an end. The wind dies down the current slackens on the shoals white clouds stretch across the sky like huge confections. I still recall the splendor of her smile the solace Read more ›

Ruach

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After the shooting, we waited like expectant parents for your first breath. Unconscious of our presence, you drifted in a galaxy light years away, tethered to your life support of tubes and hose, your head thrown back in deep repose. Read more ›