This Life

The day is bright and sunny,

The world’s a lovely place,

Unless you’re hurt or poor or sick

Or reeling in disgrace.

The trees are big with blossoms,

The sky a brilliant blue,

But those who grapple with despair

Won’t notice such a view.

The air is crisp and pleasant,

The birdsong sweet and clear,

Though anyone who’s suffering 

Won’t notice or won’t hear.

This life is filled with beauty,

Which has Nature to reveal it,

Yet only those without deep woes 

Can find a way to feel it.

Perfect Little Squares

Every building in my view

Has perfect little squares

Of windows lined up neatly

Which I gaze at, unawares.

 

From where I sit, I cannot see

The curtains, shades or blinds,

The distance meaning if I stare,

Then no one really minds.

 

And yet, behind each pane of glass

Some lives are being spent,

Each one unique, no matter what

The co-op fees or rent.

 

The city houses millions,

All with windows facing out,

But we never know what life

Behind those windows is about.

Protests

In the 60’s we protested

Out on the quads

With our armbands and banners and signs

‘Til the rage manifested

By police riot squads

Put a damper on all our designs.

 

We erected no tents

And we went home to sleep

But were sure we could orchestrate change.

Yet these current events

Which on campuses sweep

Seem, to me, very different and strange.

Confronting Mortality

When thinking of writing your will,

Though you may not be over the hill,

You are forced to confront,

If I may be so blunt,

That some goals you may never fulfill.

 

For a will means you cannot pretend

That your life will not come to an end

And your heirs might be sad

But perhaps slightly glad

That they’ll have some new money to spend.

 

If you’re lucky, the will you submit

Will, as years pass you by, merely sit,

So you’ll even forget

All about it and yet

It will neaten things up when you split.

A Respite

The sun is out, the sky is blue;

I’ve done the things I’ve needed to,

So I can sit and watch the flow

And how the river sparkles so.

 

I can’t stay long, but while I’m here,

Before I have to get in gear,

I’ll soak some rays, my mind serene,

As I enjoy this urban scene.

 

I’m rarely calm, so times like these,

With sunshine and a gentle breeze,

Provide a respite for my mind,

Where I can leave my stress behind.

Holiday Prep

Today I hit the kitchen

With my apron neatly tied,

Preparing many recipes

My file did provide.

 

For each year on the holiday,

I measure, chop and mix,

To make the dishes that tradition

Taught me how to fix.

 

If I have the ingredients,

The project’s kind of Zen.

I get into the zone of knowing

That I’m back again

 

To carry on like I have done

So many times before,

Reminding me of who I am

Way deep inside the core.

The Way Things Are

Kids today cannot resist;

Technology entices,

So from our grands, we won’t be missed

When left to their own devices!

Dandelions

Many lawns are dotted 

With these yellow tufts of gold

And all my life, “They’re ugly weeds!”

Is what I have been told.

Yet dandelions add some pop

Of color to the green

And though they are invasive,

Add some beauty to the scene.

A gardener will argue

That they simply don’t belong,

But since I have no garden,

Such a statement just seems wrong.

Unstuck

It’s easy to do nothing

And accept things as they stand

Or you risk some disappointment

If there’s something you have planned.

 

For, though change is often healthy,

There’s a chance that you’ll regret it

And so, prior to commitment,

Many simply say, “Forget it!”

 

If, like me, you can’t move forward,

Reach inside and, with some luck,

You may find some untapped power,

Just enough to get unstuck.

Cutting the Pizza

Our final night in Montreal,

To take a break from fries,

We saw a nice Italian place

We thought we’d patronize.

 

We ordered salad, beer and wine

And, perfect for our sharing,

An interesting pizza

Which they took their time preparing.

 

When it came out, we were surprised

For, though it looked enticing,

It was a perfect circle

Which no one had started slicing.

 

The waitress then provided

Not a slicer like we know,

But a special sharpened scissor

Which went smoothly through the dough.

 

The pizza was delicious,

Cooked to absolute perfection,

Which we happily devoured

As we snipped each brand-new section.

 

A tiramisu finished off

A most amazing meal,

With our unexpected scissor-slices

Part of the appeal.

Walking a City

Walking a city that isn’t your own,

While part of a group or a couple, alone,

You notice the buildings, the shops and cafes,

All prepped and inviting to welcome your gaze.

Of course, more than harbor or castle or steeple,

When strolling along, you take note of the people

And try to pin down, from their looks and their styles

How their difference from you stems from more than just miles.

Though the natives see “tourist” as you walk the streets

And indulge in the sights and the views and the eats,

Most accept your existence with little regard,

As you soak it all up in their very backyard.

Turning the Spit

At a history museum

By the hearth there was a spit

With a slatted-wood contraption 

By a rope attached to it.

When we read the explanation

We were totally surprised.

The contraption was a cage

In which a small dog exercised.

Like a hamster wheel, the dog would run

In circles so the meat

In the spit would turn, which helped

To make the cooking more complete.

With this mean but slick solution,

What was roasting would not burn,

But I hope at least the dog would get

A taste of what he’d earn.

Making Bagels

A hands-on workshop was such fun

In Montreal today.

We made real bagels, all from scratch 

In a yummy, local way.

Our teacher made us feel at home

(Makes sense - he lives there, too!)

As, patiently, he demonstrated

What we had to do.

Eleven of us washed our hands

And tied our aprons on,

Then measured the ingredients 

And mixed ‘til they were gone.

We kneaded and then shaped the dough 

With Will to supervise,

Then watched them boil and added seeds

And, much to our surprise,

We made delicious bagels

And our group felt really proud!

As a born and bred New Yorker,

I was thrilled and also wowed.

If you visit Montreal, make sure

You find Will’s class and go

For a wonderful experience

That will delight you so!

Global Entry

We bought our Global Entry cards

In pre-pandemic days,

Believing they would ease our travel

In some helpful ways.

But Covid hit soon after

So those cards were never used,

Yet when our trips resumed

Our pre-check status was refused.  

The US airlines never gave

An explanation why,

But we kept trying every time

We purchased seats to fly.

Today, though, on Air Canada,

An agent made a catch -

My boarding pass and entry card

Were not a perfect match.

It seems there are 9 digit codes

(2 sets!) on every card

And entering the wrong one 

On a form was not that hard.

The problem solved, we got new passes

And were on our way,

With pre-check status never given

By the USA.

You Hope They Stick

When plans are made, you hope they stick,

That no one will be getting sick,

Because for every date you pick,

A better one is waiting.

The weather might be filled with rain

Or someone could be stuck with pain,

But if you’ve planned, at least you gain

No more anticipating.

There never is a perfect time

When factors - family, health and clime -

Create conditions so sublime

There’ll be no hesitating.

A Photo

Met some friends for lunch;

We go back many, many years,

Before we started families

Or even our careers.

 

We caught up on our lives,

Discussing grandkids, health and trips

And problems in the world with which

We cannot come to grips.

 

A lovely meal was followed by

A scenic river stroll.

Before we parted ways, we had

One necessary goal –

 

A photo of the three of us,

All smiles and looking good,

An older version of the selves

That formed our sisterhood.

The Joy of Certainty

A radio commercial

Made me laugh to some extent,

Though to California Psychics,

That was never their intent.

 

“Experience the joy,” it said,

“Of certainty!” For real?
A psychic claiming certainty

To me has no appeal.

 

Although, to those believers

Who give credence to this stuff,

Predictions of the future

Might be more than bogus fluff.

 

I don’t believe in certainty –

The concept’s even strange –

For even psychics can’t foresee

The ways that life can change.

After the Eclipse

Clutching cardboard glasses,

People gathered in the park,

Waiting for the moment when

The day would turn to dark.

 

It never really did, because

When experts did the math,

We knew that for totality,

We weren’t in its path.

 

My son, though, when he’d learned of it

Decided he must go

And headed to Niagara Falls,

His family in tow.

 

Despite some clouds, they got to see

The magic in the sky,

A time my grandkids won’t forget

And here’s the reason why –

 

For just as quickly as the sun

Was covered by the moon,

Sharing family time, so precious,

Somehow vanishes too soon.

Before the Eclipse

Many people took long trips

While others are ignoring

The much-awaited big eclipse;

With expectations soaring,

 

The ones with special glasses

Are hyped up for the event,

But clouds may interfere and cause

A dose of discontent.

 

Totality, I’ve heard, is something

Special to observe,

Though where I live, that platter

Isn’t what the skies will serve.

 

Still, I’ll head to the river,

Can’t resist the story’s hook,

My cardboard glasses on, although

I’ll be too scared to look.

From Doing Nothing

From doing nothing, suddenly

My days are getting filled

With plans like those which Covid

Did delay or outright killed.

 

I’m constantly reminded

That my age will soon prevent

Travel to the many places

Where, in fantasies, I went.

 

So for now, while I’m still able,

It’s the time to set in place

Trips once written on my calendar

I was afraid to face.

 

I remain a little nervous,

Just in case you couldn’t tell,

But we only have one life to live

So I say, what the hell!

Making a List

It’s helpful when making a list

To check back to see if you’ve missed

Something you had to do

Which, without that review,

Might be something you’ve tried to resist.

 

For at times, there’s so much to be done

That, by crossing things off, one by one,

You can feel satisfied

And delighted inside

You’re completing things under the gun.

 

As for chores you’d prefer to delay,

Best to get all those out of the way.

Once your goals have been met

You’ll breathe better, I’ll bet

And the next list you’ll get to delay.

Earthquake

Late in the morning, we had a surprise -

An earthquake decided to hit.

Our son’s house, for maybe 10 seconds or so,

Was shaking and more than a bit.

Around here, this isn’t a typical thing

So friends either texted or called.

Did you feel the earthquake? We did or we heard…

People startled or somewhat enthralled.

Of course, it was minor so damage was nil

And we all could be rather blasé,

But I’d hate to be living where major quakes strike

As you watch all you own swept away. 

Acorn

As I was headed home, a squirrel

Passed me going south.

I noticed him because he had

An acorn in his mouth.

 

Since winter’s not approaching,

I am curious to know

If squirrels still amass a stash

For when supplies run low.

 

Or was that nut for dinner

From his daily market run?

Or a late addition to a meal

His family’d just begun?

 

I have no way to ascertain

What’s stored within his nest

So, like many other mysteries,

I’ll give this one a rest.

For My Birthday

For my birthday, saw a play

But it is such a rainy day,

We canceled dinner out, but hey –

It’s cozy here at home.

 

My husband cooks so we’ve a meal;

A restaurant missed is no big deal

And staying in has such appeal –

Outside’s too wet to roam.

 

We’ll eat and drink an ice cold brew

And watch a Netflix show that’s new.

To end the day, what I will do

Is post my daily poem.

'Tis Better

‘Tis better to do

Than to wait and decide

Or else opportunities

Might be denied.

 

To hem and to haw

And remain on the brink

Gives the pool of cool choices

The option to shrink.

 

So get off your tush

Quick as age will allow.

The future that’s waiting

Depends on the now.

This Morning

This morning, on my walk, there were 

Two zebras on the grass.

A huge gorilla blocked my way

And wouldn’t let me pass.

But luckily, a UFO

Appeared; as it alit,

The terrified gorilla

Quickly made a run for it.

The aliens aboard invited

Me to take a ride 

And I was blown away

By all the gadgetry inside.

We headed through the Milky Way

And it was quite a thrill

To see the earth below us -

Oh, what pride it did instill!

This morning’s taught me more 

That what I’ve learned in all my schools.

I’m guessing that you’ve figured out

Today is April Fools’!

My Windsocks

My windsocks flutter in the breeze,

Their streamers catching in the trees.

I love the way they bop and dance

When given even half a chance.

And even when the winds don’t blow,

I like the way they look, although

Their rainbow hues don’t represent

Much more than what is evident -

A subtle sign of light and cheer

To show that people living here

Delight in letting windsocks fly,

Which city living must deny.

Missing Parts

A friend sent me a spinner

Which turns gently in a breeze.

It needed some assembly,

So I got down on my knees,

Removing all the pieces

From the box where they were packed.

I looked at the instructions 

And then noticed that I lacked 

Part D, which had connectors,

So I couldn’t quite begin. 

Without those parts, the spinner 

Wouldn’t even get to spin.

Although it came from China,

It’s through Amazon and so

Returns are pretty easy,

Which I’ve lately come to know.

My friend got me the code

And I will head to UPS,

If my cramming-in-the-carton skills

Are met with some success.

My Kitchen Clock

We have a kitchen clock that hangs

Way high up on the wall.

I bought it many years ago, 

But where, I can’t recall.

I take it down two times each year

To spring ahead or back,

Then it returns to where it hangs 

To keep us all on track.

Today, the clock stopped working 

So we checked the battery

And were in for quite a shock -

The date said 1993!

My husband had a stash of C’s

But none would do the trick.

A new one from the store, though,

Got the clock to start to tick.

I’d worried that this clock of mine

Was not long for this earth,

But like its battery, I’d say

I got my money’s worth!

Dilated

The doctor dilated my eyes;

My pupils are three times their size.

Since the time this occurred

What I’m seeing is blurred,

But I know things will soon stabilize.

 

Still, I’m fortunate I can still read

Since my near-sight is quite up to speed.

I can write and can sew

And do most things, although

Distance vision is not guaranteed.

 

I am lucky I don’t have to drive

For I don’t think that I would survive

Without seeing the road;

Yet here in my abode,

I’ll just wait for my eyes to revive.

Up in Smoke

Our ceiling fan went up in smoke

But didn’t catch on fire.

It seemed okay before it broke;

The culprit was a wire.

 

It happened fast and we got scared;

My husband flipped the fuses.

I guess we’re never quite prepared

When we’re whom bad luck chooses.

 

The burning smell took hours to fade;

A new fan will replace it

With safer bulbs, yet I’m afraid

I might not quite embrace it.

On the Way

My son and my grandson are up in the air

On the way to a tropical isle.

In an hour or so, they’ll be at their hotel,

Where the family has been for a while.

 

Sickness caused a delay, so they missed a short time,

But the rest of the week should be fun,

Though like many vacations, the ending will come

When it seems like the trip’s just begun.

 

Yet right now, I’m aware, as I’m usually not,

Of my son and my grandson’s locale,

Though there’s no way to know, as I usually don’t,

Of the state of their current morale.

 

Still, I’m happy to know they’re together and safe,

Since the start of their week’s overdue,

But whatever they see and wherever they go

Once they land, I will not have a clue.

Smells

I do not like the smell of any

Perfume or cologne.

Unscented are the lotions

And deodorants I own.

 

Yet certain flowers’ scents can help

To brighten up a mood

And lovely food aromas

Can improve one’s attitude.

 

We all have favorite smells

And though our senses are unique,

Agreement can be reached when odors

Absolutely reek.

Child-Proof

There’s a child-proof cap

That’s beyond my strength,

Though I’ve tried my best

To get it off, at length.

First I push, then twist 

But it’s staying stuck 

And my grandson would

Thus be out of luck

But his dad will soon

Be back home and then

There’ll be medicine

‘Til the next time when

His new dose is due;

Then there’ll be no goof 

For a dad can open

What’s Nana-proof.

The Kind of Rain

Today’s the kind of rain that causes

Rivers in the street

And when you cross, you’re bound to

Wet your toesies and your feet.

 

The puddles quickly turn to lakes,

Perhaps to raise a flood

And every garden’s sure to find

Its dirt bed turned to mud.

 

Windshield wipers can’t keep up;

Umbrellas funnel drips

And back at home, with sopping clothes,

Most everybody strips.

 

Today’s a day to cozy up,

If you’ve no pressing chores,

And remind yourself you’re lucky

That you get to stay indoors.

Third Grade Flamenco

In a long red skirt, with a great big smile,

Our young senorita danced,

Doing all the moves in Flamenco style,

For third graders, quite advanced.

Though we watched on screen, it was pure delight

As they clapped and stomped and moved.

That six lessons (wow!) led to such a night,

To my mind (and others) proved

That when those in charge have the kind of smarts

And the funding to expose

Kids in school to various types of arts,

The results are too joyful for prose.

Chug-Chug-Chugging

A little Coast Guard boat just now

Went chug-chug-chugging by.

It left behind a wake, above which

Seagulls like to fly.

 

Aside from that, the river’s calm

With not a tug in sight,

Although a ferry might come soon,

Their schedule kept tight.

 

It’s chilly so the benches are

Unoccupied as well,

But since the sun is shining,

I’ve been captured by its spell.

 

I’m happy to be out here

As I sit and write this poem,

Knowing when I’m cold or hungry,

In five minutes I’ll be home.

No Naps

If I let my eyes close for a second,

Then, really, it isn’t a nap,

But the problem, you see

Is, in terms of degree,

It’s quite easy to fall in a trap.

 

For a second may turn to a minute

And that minute can change to a few,

So I try to resist

With a slap on the wrist

Or whatever wake-ups! I can do.

 

You may wonder at all my resistance,

Since a nap’s not a terrible thing,

But my reasons go deep

And, to me, proper sleep

Is the type only nighttime can bring.

A Challenge

Dealing with people you don’t really like

Is a challenge, like walking on eggs.

You can’t simply tell them to go take a hike

Or do likewise with your own two legs.

 

For sometimes you just don’t have much of a choice

And for various reasons, you’re stuck,

So you must keep quiet or lower your voice

Or you’ll bear the results of your pluck.

 

Avoidance is best, but at times you cannot;

Then it’s wise to take care what you say,

For if negative vibes are the ones you have got,

Likely your vibes are seen the same way.