Feet In L.A., But My Womb Lives In Jerusalem, My Breath In Vermont

What more could I ask for than a chair at your bright yellow table, high as clear skies, pine trees, and the dusty red roofs of Jerusalem.

Lori Levy's delicate poems oscillate vividly between the sensation of dayenu-moments, when we feel perfectly whole and at peace -and our craving to experience more: more of this life, again, more of this place, or another place, of another moment. Levy merges nostalgia and carpe diem as she recalls important stations of her journeys between Vermont, Israe...