Tonight I love you on a spring morning. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my
after In Memory’s Kitchen: A Legacy from the Women of Terezin They dream of yeast and goose fat, dough plaited to dough, the old
The colors, she says, staring at the hanging basket, the red, orange, pink, purple of verbena, geranium, million bells — all tumbling over the