
My Name Is Your Name – A poem for Parsha Shemot
When I came along, my parents agreed on my name but not on the spelling…

When I came along, my parents agreed on my name but not on the spelling…


What does it mean to have lived, to have truly lived?


We’re approaching something but I don’t know what.


At the end is a dubious place to begin.


All of this used to be orange groves…





