False Positives

One was from a blood test;

One was from a scan.

Both caused much anxiety,

As bad news always can.

 

Follow-ups determined

There was no cause for concern,

Which has made me start to wonder,

Just what lesson can we learn?

 

To never trust a doctor

Or technician or result?

Or to not jump to conclusions

After yelling, “Oy gevalt!”?

 

Guess it serves as a reminder

That we cannot quite rely

On results which bring up death,

A truth we’d rather just deny.

Cover Story

My umbrella was wet,

So they gave me a bag.

A wet floor at the gym

Would be kind of a drag.

 

It was still coming down

When I left, so I tugged

My umbrella from where

In my bag it was snugged.

 

Once at home, it dried out,

But the cover was lost,

Leading me on a search

Of the streets I had crossed.

 

It was there on the walk,

Looking wet and forlorn,

But it didn’t look dirty

Or muddy or torn.

 

It’s now hanging to dry,

Reunited, I’m glad,

With my favorite umbrella

That I’ve ever had.

The New York Public Library

The New York Public Library’s

A lovely place to visit.

The main branch Beaux-Arts building

Is a landmark most exquisite.

 

In addition to its majesty,

Exhibits are displayed,

Which New Yorkers rarely think about

When plans are being made.

 

I don’t know why, for there are treasures

Waiting to be viewed.

In one case, there was Pooh Bear,

Where most children’s eyes were glued.

 

Charles Dickens’ writing table

And his calendar and chair,

Plus a baseball signed by Brooklyn Dodgers

All are set up there.

 

A special exhibition

Was the draw that lured us in,

Celebrating the New Yorker

And its hundred year-old spin.

 

And one final must-go reason –

There’s a gift shop worth a look.

You can spend the day enjoying all

And never touch a book.

Thank You, Heart

Thank you, heart, for all your beating.

Thank you, lungs, for breath.

That you, kidneys, for excreting,

Overriding death.

 

Thank you, bones, for your supporting.

Thank you, eyes, for sight.

Thank you, legs, because cavorting

Still could bring delight.

 

Thank you, teeth, for all your chewing.

Thank you, ears, for sound.

Thank you, brain, for all you’re doing,

Keeping me around.

 

We can’t know when life is ending,

But I’m grateful to

My body, with its staunch defending,

Helping me get through.

Museum Signage

In a museum, right there on the wall,

The name of the artwork’s displayed,

Along with the artist and elements used

And the date it was painted or made.

 

Yet some institutions don’t follow the script

And there are no labels or signs.

Instead, there are folders you pluck from a pile

For the info most signage defines.

 

It’s annoying to me, extra work, if you will,

Matching outlines and numbers to where

On the wall every gallery work has been hung,

For a plaque would be better off there.

 

Some museums are known for exhibits so dense

There is not enough room for a card,

But the one I just came from is spacious and spare,

So some signage would not have been hard.

In Your Pocket

My tap dance teacher told us

We should always be prepared

With an improvised routine

Based on the lessons he has shared.

 

“Just keep it in your pocket,”

Was his wise and kind advice,

“So if asked at an audition,

There’d be no need to think twice.”

 

Now, this class has mostly seniors,

Not a pro within the group,

And I’m certain not a one of us

Will try out for a troupe.

 

Yet, I think there is some wisdom

In that counsel to apply

To so many parts of life,

Which can be useful by and by.

 

For some knowledge “in your pocket,”

Which is always there to use,

Whether tap dance steps or trivia

May help stress to defuse.

 

Still, before it’s “in your pocket,”

You will have to know it cold

And the confidence that brings you

Will be worth its weight in gold.

Golden

Instead of pumpkin pie, that year,

We had a wedding cake,

One reason why our T-Day marriage

Was a big mistake.

 

The families gathered, most of them,

With travel at its peak.

We should have planned it, really,

For most any other week.

 

Aside from all the agita

A holiday can cause,

Some tension with some relatives

Was reason to give pause.

 

Yet looking back at pictures,

There is joy in all the smiles

Brought together for our wedding day

From distances of miles.

 

Since that was fifty years ago,

Some who were there have passed.

Perhaps they’d be surprised to learn

Those vows we took did last.

 

Though I am not, I must admit

That even had I known,

I couldn’t have imagined how

These fifty years have flown.