The last long quivering blast of the shofar; The gates of holy repentance inch closer, but never click-lock I fold my tallit, greet my friends, head to the table, Grab some water, say the bracha, quench my twenty-five hour thirst. We head home, I take a quick snack while some food is Set out; I start our little construction project, no real Skills, plans, permits required as, once completed, our Hut shall stand just a bit more than a week or so. It’ll do, it’ll do, that rickety little hut For meals and visits and tales of the desert Wanderings.
Beautiful.