September's End

How’d September slip away,

So sneaky and so fast?

It doesn’t seem, since summer’s end,

Sufficient time has passed.

 

October’s waiting in the wings,

So calendars must flip

And into autumn’s palette,

Mother Nature’s brush must dip.

 

I look back at September, though

And all the days are blurry,

For as I age, I notice more

That time is in a hurry.

Chicken Pot Pie

The man sat in his wheelchair;

His aide was on the phone,

Behavior to which aides and sitters

Oftentimes are prone.

 

“You’re hungry?” She hung up and said;

The question I’d not heard.

“But you had lunch!” and yet

His urge for food was undeterred.

 

“Remember? At the Mansion?

Chicken pot pie was your meal,

With lentil soup, then ice cream.”

(Likely as a mid-day deal.)

 

It wasn’t even 2 o’clock

Yet still, they headed back,

Abandoning the river

For an after-lunchtime snack.

Mandate

New York City workers

Must be vaccinated or

If they show up for work, they will

Be firmly shown the door.

 

I’m heartened by this mandate

And especially in schools.

It’s time to bid farewell to all

The anti-vaxxer fools.

 

We’ve all been pricked for smallpox,

For measles and the mumps

And whooping cough and polio

(And sometimes on our rumps!)

 

So suck it up and take the shot,

Those missing jabs and swabs,

For you’ll be safer and, of course,

You’ll get to keep your jobs.

The Perfect Spot

A breeze, a bench, a river view

Is all I need for what I do –

A peaceful place to write my poem,

In walking distance of my home.

 

Though some would laugh and others scoff,

Believing I’d be better off

To have a much more private space,

With isolation to embrace…

 

I’ve found the perfect spot for me.

My city soul rests easily

So I can sit and think and write

And smile in absolute delight.

Sand Chair

I took a sand chair to the yard

Which had a patch of sun

And sat to take a phone call, 

Which had only just begun.

The sun, alas, would not stay still

So soon I was in shade

And had to move my chair,

A most amusing escapade.

You see, this happened several times

To get the sunshine right,

But every time it happened

Was a laugh-inducing sight.

A sand chair‘s seat is very low;

With youth’s agility, 

It’s not a problem getting up -

That’s not the case for me.

I’m sure I looked hilarious,

My balance not quite there.

I need a better place to plop

My aging derrière.

My Chandelier

I have a funky chandelier;

It has a country theme.

From next to barnyard animals, 

The light’s supposed to beam.

Four candelabra bulbs it has,

Each 40 watts, but though

The cow’s and sheep’s and pig’s all work,

The horse’s bulb won’t glow.

For more than 30 years, it’s hung

Above the same old table,

But some connection’s broken and

To fix it, I’m not able.

Some handymen have tried and failed -

No one with intuition 

Or knowledge that will do the trick -

I need an electrician.

They don’t make house calls and since I

Can’t take it down, I guess,

I’ll have to just get used to

Having light, but somewhat less.

Teachers on Zoom

My grandkids’ school’s on lockdown;

Construction’s incomplete,

So Zoom’s the platform kids and teachers

Use to daily meet.

We sit close by and listen

Just in case we must assist,

Occasionally helping out

Until they are dismissed.

And thus we get a glimpse into

Each teacher’s traits and style.

We hear their voices but don’t look

So we can’t see them smile.

We learn who’s organized, as well

As who is sweet and kind.

Of course, to teach on Zoom was not

What either had in mind.

We also got a chance, quite rare, 

To see the kids at work.

We’d all prefer they were in school,

But that’s a little perk.

Our hope is that they’ll all return

To classrooms very soon,

But I am glad we got to have

This peek most opportune.

Some Decisions

Some decisions must be made

And they could be the wrong ones,

Since opinions may not jive

With yours and might be strong ones.

 

Everybody’s comfort level

Varies so completely,

Even with the facts, the pros and cons

Don’t line up neatly.

 

Trust your gut is what they say

But you may feel conflicted,

Especially when hearing

Your conviction contradicted.

 

Life has always been this way,

Though Covid’s made things starker

And when decisions must be made

My mood gets that much darker.

First Day of Autumn

It doesn’t seem like autumn yet

But it will very soon, I’d bet.

Though all the leaves I see are green,

The air is feeling in-between.

 

It isn’t crisp or brisk, but still,

Beneath the muggy, there’s a chill,

Not quite enough for sweats or fleece,

But plenty for departing geese.

 

Today is the official date

Of autumn’s start and I can’t wait

For foliage that shouts out “Fall!”

And weather I love best of all.

Too Much Quiet

Being from the city,

Too much quiet makes me cringe.

What sirens do for others,

Silence makes my brain unhinge.

I’ll take it in small doses -

It’s initially a balm -

But over time, it does 

The opposite of bringing calm.

The birdsong helps and music, too,

Yet it’s not quite enough.

For sensory survival,

I prefer the noisy stuff.

Bitcoin

Don’t ask me what it is, for I

Don’t really understand.

It’s money, but a type that you

Can’t hold in your own hand.

Though younger people get it,

It is way beyond my ken.

The chance of comprehension 

Is more “if” and less of “when.”

I read about this Bitcoin 

And what image comes to me

Is a metal version of what’s used

To play Monopoly.

Problem Solved

A bench that is made out of wood

May cause pain in your back that’s not good,

For the muscles called lats

Can be hurt by the slats;

Sometimes I would change seats if I could.

But you often don’t have that much choice,

So before you let pain have a voice,

Find a pillow to fit

On your back when you sit;

Then in comfort you’ll rest and rejoice.

The Hostess

The hostess asked to see their proof

That they’d received vaccines, 

For New York law requires it

In their pre-seating screens.

The women, Texas tourists,

In a mean, entitled rage,

Thought that violent behavior

Was the best way to engage.

The three attacked the hostess,

In a frenzy, caught on tape 

And without some intervention,

She’d have not made her escape.

The police were called, arrests were made;

They’ll have to show in court,

But outrage was the one response

Each newscast did report.

To dine indoors, obey the rules;

For anyone who won’t, 

The penalty should be so stiff

It might stop those who don’t.

Certain Songs

Certain songs come on the air 

And you can’t help but dance.

No matter where you are, you’re up

If you just have the chance.

You’ll feel your toes start tapping 

As your body starts to move 

And before you know it, you will be

Well into your own groove.

Not every one’s deserving 

Of an accolade and yet,

If a song can get you dancing,

That’s as good as it can get. 

On Henry's 8th Birthday

Today’s the day that Henry’s 8.

He’s growing fast; we’ll celebrate

And though I love each stretch and stride,

A little pang can’t be denied.

 

The baby in my arms I rocked

As lullabies my mind unlocked;

The pudgy toddler on my lap,

Preferring stories to a nap.

 

The music classes and the gym;

(Though climbing high was not for him.)

The times when we would say goodbye

And he would follow us and cry.

 

Before the tablet and the Switch,

Together times were sweet and rich.

To be with Henry, sharp and bright,

Was absolute and pure delight.

 

Of course, he’s still the greatest boy

Who brings me lots of deep-felt joy

But as the years add up, I see

There’s much less time and need for me.

 

It should be thus; I can’t complain

And our connection will remain.

Yet as I glimpse back to the past,

I feel like it’s gone by too fast.

Erev

In Hebrew, “erev” (evening)

Means the ending and the start,

Both happening together,

Nothing setting them apart.

For at sundown, daytime’s over

But all holidays begin,

As most Jewish people celebrate;

That’s how it’s always been.

So the night that comes before,

We say it’s “Erev” with the name 

Of the day upon the calendar 

The ancients did proclaim.

Tonight’s Erev Yom Kippur,

The most holy day of all,

Which will be observed tomorrow

‘Til we hear the shofar’s* call.

*a ram’s horn blown during services

To Watch the Birds

To watch the birds is pure delight

While at the feeder or in flight.

They poke and peck to get their seeds,

Providing peace my spirit needs.

Their cheeps and chirps imbue the air 

With melody they’re meant to share

With fellow feathered-friends they greet,

Much like our human type of tweet.

How fortunate I feel that I

Can sit and let the hours go by

While watching birds to pass the time

And twittering my thoughts in rhyme.

Baby-Sitting Now

Once they aren’t babies,

Are we baby-sitting, still?

We watch them and some necessary

Jobs we do fulfill.

 

The back and forth to school, the meals,

The homework and, of course,

The after-school activities

Which parents do endorse.

 

We show up when we’re needed

And do all that we are asked,

Including going places where

We’re distanced and we’re masked.

 

There isn’t lots of sitting

And they’ve left their baby phase –

Guess grand-kids watchers might be

A more fitting modern phrase.

Sunday by the River

Today my bench is in the shade.

It’s not too hot – I’ve got it made.

I watch the ferry folk parade

While lovely breezes blow.

 

All sorts of sneakers are displayed

As people strut and promenade,

The chores that wait at home delayed

To join the Sunday show.

 

A long-ago decision made

To live here in my mind has stayed

As one from which I’ve never swayed –

That’s one thing that I know.

The Day Began and Ended

My day began by watching

As they read the victims’ names,

A somber sad reminder

Of an act that still inflames.

 

A bell was struck to mark the time

Each tower was attacked

And once again, when each collapsed;

The moment was exact.

 

Though 20 years have passed, the shock

And sorrow still feel fresh,

Especially for those of us

Who lived it in the flesh.

 

But time goes on and 4 p.m.

Brought tennis to the screen –

The U.S. Open Women’s match –

The best I’ve ever seen.

 

The finalists were fierce and kept

On evening the score,

Both desperate for the crown

That neither one had earned before.

 

The match-up was unusual –

Two teens were on the court,

Infusing such enthusiasm

To this age-old sport.

 

And so my day began with death -

Still awful in its scope –

But it ended with the future

And the joy of youth and hope.

September 10th

No one thinks September 10th

When looking back in time,

Because, on the 11th,

Was the world’s most shocking crime.

Tomorrow there’ll be ceremonies 

Honoring the dead

But sometimes, what I focus on’s

The day before instead…

When things went on as usual

And no one had a clue 

That life would never ever

Be the life that we once knew.

Before and after sums it up;

Mixed in with thoughts of sorrow,

My mind goes out to those who never

Doubted their tomorrow.

Needing a Nap

Here’s a new reality –

It hit me like a slap –

When 3:00 or so rolls ‘round,

I really need a nap.

 

Of course, I wake before the dawn –

I’ll cut myself some slack –

But only lately do I wish

I had those hours back.

 

I won’t give in and hit the bed;

My eyes, though, start to close

And I must fight with all my might

Or else I’ll start to doze.

 

Another way that aging

Has us moving in reverse,

And napping like a toddler

Might be leading to much worse!

City Changes

When a change in your surroundings

Makes you mad or discontent,

You might question if the houndings

Of some friends did represent

 

Truths that you were blind to seeing

For your urban love runs deep,

So much so that you hate being

Without noise to help you sleep.

 

Yet when former subway users

Get that “lease a car now!” spark,

Their new autos leave us losers

With no place in which to park.

 

And when bikers meet for riding,

Hogging every single lane,

Central Park is, you’re deciding,

For pedestrians, a pain.

 

Though the city still has magic

And its praises yet are sung,

All these changes feel quite tragic

To New Yorkers not quite young.

Rosh Hashanah Sermon

The rabbi gave a sermon

Which I listened to on Zoom,

Her Jewish New Year message

Somehow piped into the room.

The theme this year was kindness,

Which seemed very apropos 

Since the world’s so full of hatred 

There’s no space for love to grow.

If we all try just a little bit

To treat each other well 

And give help to those in need,

Perhaps some pain we can dispel.

It wouldn’t take much effort if

Enough of us joined in.

Some small displays of kindness

Is the way we can begin.

We shouldn’t need a rabbi

To remind us of this fact

Or a holiday to force us

To remember how to act.

The Screen Door

Our grandkids came to visit 

With their parents - what a treat!

We laughed, played games, took walks, explored -

The package was complete.

Of course, there had to be a few

Small snags along the way, 

Including some enthusiasm 

With a price to pay.

The sliding screen door to the porch

Took quite a bruising blow

When someone ran right into it -

That’s how things sometimes go.

We didn’t make too big a deal -

Thought it could be replaced -

For home repair skills aren’t assets

That we have embraced.

But to the rescue came our friend -

More handy than we knew -

Who, with a borrowed tool and patience,

Saw just what to do.

Some fiddling around and then,

Voila! Our door’s repaired.

A lovely end result for which

We weren’t quite prepared.

How lucky to have friends like that

But luckier, by far,

To have the grandkids visit,

As rambunctious as they are.

Tired

I am tired but I’m wired

So I must complete this verse.

It’s a need that I’ve acquired 

And for needs, it could be worse.

There’s so much that has transpired 

I have many poems to write

But, though I’m not uninspired,

I just have to say good night.

The Ups and Downs

The ups and downs of life

Somehow seem to be condensed

When a family weekend has,

After too much time, commenced.

For excitement, filled with smiles,

Leads to tantrums and to tears

Though some ice cream stops sure help

Tilt the balance (as do beers).

Just when things are smooth as silk,

There’s no water from the sink,

Not for showers or to flush -

Glad there’s bottled stuff to drink.

There’s a water main that broke;

Takes 4 hours to repair. 

Just before I hit the hay,

It’s all fixed - no more despair.

Still, the sky is filled with stars 

And the days are streaked with sun.

All the downs are soon forgot,

Overshadowed by the fun.

Anticipation

The shopping’s done, the house is clean,

The radio is on;

All is peaceful as it will be

After they have gone.

But I am looking forward to

The bustle in between,

When kids and grandkids, now en route,

Are finally on the scene.  

I hope that all goes smoothly 

And we have a lot of fun.

Now I sit and watch the clock

Until that time’s begun.

After the Storm

I’m sitting in a patch of sun

And kind of taking stock,

Feeling lucky after hearing

Of so many still in shock.

Homes destroyed by a tornado,

People stranded on the road,

Cancellations of events

As rivers filled and overflowed.

All my kith and kin are safe, with just

Some minor floods to clean,

Nothing like the damage suffered

In the videos I’ve seen.

As for me, I’m disappointed;

Grandkids should be on their way

With their parents for a visit,

But it won’t take place today.

Still, tomorrow they’ll be coming;

Got my toes and fingers crossed

And right now it’s cool and sunny

So the day will not be lost.

The Old Man is Snoring

Pounding, drenching, teeming rain 

Is coming down so fast

The flowers on my brand-new mum

Are gone; I’d hoped they’d last.

The downpours seem to alternate

With lulls of less intent,

But don’t be fooled - the pace will soon

Renew our discontent.

Some places have tornado scares;

For us, some floods may flow.

It’s raining and it’s pouring;

The old man is snoring so!