A 'Sestina' it had been a good run, but, resigned, he now set his shoulders, ready to take the fall for her; a final stand; sighing, he took his turn and let the chips fall through the window, he watched the leaves fall over the meadow; no place to run; nowhere to turn; nothing for… Continue reading Down the river, or: The fall
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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