The Broken Pencils by Carla Conley
The Broken Pencilsby Carla Conley In that house, we didn’t start our workat dawn when the lazy boat had only dockedmoments ago. Night was a brief shpatzir:a float of nameless purpose. There was noreason to pierce a dream that wasn’t lessthan dreaming it. We waved back to avrum,to all our fathers lost at break of […]
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