(Adapted from an essay I wrote for our synagogue’s enewsletter) When Irv and I moved to Denver in 1970, we had no family here. So, our next-door neighbor kindly invited us for Thanksgiving dinner. And
(Inspired by my granddaughter’s poetry) I look in the mirror and see: Sprouting black mustache hairs, A creviced face and turkey neck, Bulging tummy, droopy breasts. My teenage granddaughter stands ne
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