There’s a New Year Every Month
…
There’s passing in the air. Peter, Paul and Mary are confronted by the truth of their own lyrics. A soldier sings and remembers a fateful Sabbath back in 1944. Ram’s horns blow:
And in the Neve Tzedek neighborhood of Tel Aviv, someone found a way to match Michael Jackson to one of many new years:
It’s time for a fleshy, sweet, Eden-ripe apple, folks.