We cling to traditions
And habits
and friends
And gatherings
where
No one
lately attends.
It’s hard to
let go
But how long
one pretends
Things are
just like they were –
Well, that
kind of depends.
If whatever
we cling to
In some way
extends
To those
with whom we share it,
That surely
transcends
Any reason
to lose it.
Still, time’s
flow portends
Letting go
is expected,
Since everything
ends.
A donut requires a dunk
And a stone,
sitting creekside, a plunk.
With the
first, there’s a dip
And the
second, a skip,
Both delightful
as thoughts to have thunk.
What’s left of the snow
Are some
scattershot mounds,
The piles
that from shovels
Stayed way
out of bounds.
I spotted
some toddlers,
In
bright-colored boots,
Attempting
to climb some,
With giggles
and hoots.
What’s
really a pity’s
That old
city snow,
While pristine
when falling
And perfect
to throw,
Turns black
from pollution
And leftover
piles
Elicit
annoyance
Where once
there were smiles.
The melting
has started
And, as it
gets warm,
That
blackness will vanish
And puddles
will form.
Of course,
we’ll remember,
In memory’s
sight,
The
mountains of early snow,
Magically
white.
After being cooped inside
Because of
cold or snow,
A warmer
sunny day demands
You get
outside and go!
Depending on
your lifestyle,
If you leave
to get some air,
You choose a
place to perk you up
And mosey
over there.
One friend
of mine adores the beach,
So she will
take a drive
And hit the
boardwalk for a stroll
To make her
feel alive.
Another
lives in warmer climes
But when she
needs her space,
She hits a
nature sanctuary;
That’s her
go-to place.
And as for
me, when I am drawn
Outside to
take a walk,
I’m happiest
just traipsing on
The sidewalks
of New Yawk.
I waited for the crosstown bus
Forever and
a day.
That may be
an exaggeration,
But it felt that
way.
At least three
dozen people
Were
bemoaning what became
The perfect
opportunity
To find
someone to blame.
To make things
worse, a bus was parked
Right near
where we’d hop on,
Although the
driver, maybe
On a break, was
just plain gone.
At last a
new bus showed and so,
All three
doors had a crowd.
The driver
opened none of them,
The grumbles
getting loud.
When
finally, he made a move,
The front
door opened wide
And access
to the other two
Was out and
out denied.
More
kvetching, but we inched our way
And finally
could board.
I snagged a
seat (not many left),
Which felt
like a reward.
At least it
wasn’t freezing and
I wasn’t
running late,
Yet surely,
it’s a well-known fact
That no one
likes to wait.
To take things in stride,
One must simply decide
To let nervousness slide
And just chill.
If these rules are applied
And no planets collide,
Then what might be implied
Likely will
Keep one feeling supplied
With the skills to abide
By life’s customs, which guide
People still.
I have never denied
Nor have I ever lied
About lacking the pride
To fulfill
Life’s demands while allied
With some Zen bona fide
But I can’t, though I’ve tried,
Learn the drill.
To upgrade a kitchen,
Most people
I know
Would hire
an expert
And work
with a pro.
I live in a
rental,
Which limits
the range
Of the
choices I have
If I’m
wanting a change.
So to spiff
up my cabinets,
Boring and
plain,
I decided
that I’d go
Against the,
um, grain.
For, instead
of cheap plywood
Or particle
board,
Some rustic
aesthetic
Was what I
aimed toward.
I found what
I needed
And measured
and cut.
The kitchen
looks better
(At least to
me!), but
I have to
fess up
For it didn’t
take much.
Contact paper
provided
That cool
farmhouse touch!
