It is happy
Jumping out of my seat
at the thought of
Shira on a Sabbath night
Why do I like to sing only here?
It is history
My first kiss
is set in stone
Next to somebody else’s first kiss
Why is everybody’s first kiss here?
It is holy
Whatever that means
Perhaps the answer to my prayers
Is hidden in the trees of Wisconsin
Where else can I feel G-d like this?
It is home
We’ve created a family founded on
teenage angst and lifelong friendship
On this soil we all belong
How does this place make us one?
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