An 81 Year Old Driver

The driver somehow lost control

And caused a lot of grief.

He ran a light and witnesses

Looked on in disbelief.

 

Two people died with others hurt,

A terrible event,

The driver’s minor injuries

Belying the extent

 

Of all the havoc that he caused

By speeding through the light.

Though I admit it’s awful,

The reports just don’t seem right.

 

For every newscast mentioned

That his age is 81,

Implying that’s the reason that

There was such damage done.

 

If he’d been 57, say,

Or 62 or 3,

We’d never hear, on news reports,

Just what his age might be.

 

A little postscript – if we blame

His age on this brash speeder,

How can we trust (not that I do!)

Our 80 year old “leader?”

Upgrade

Traded our car in;

We knew it was time.

It no longer was 

In condition quite prime.

The mileage was high;

The A/C sometimes quit.

The front window got stuck;

The tire warning stayed lit.

So we got a new model

Much like what we had,

Although saying goodbye 

Was a little bit sad.

It looks just like the old one -

Same color, same style,

But the dashboard is loaded;

We’ll need a good while

To figure the screen out

And how it all works.

I wish we had fewer

Of tech’s latest perks.

Yet still, it will get us

Where we have to go

And maybe we’ll learn

All that we need to know.

Expect Delays

Construction on the road ahead

Or weather causing grief –

To get where you are going,

More and more, is a relief.

 

When traveling, you cannot count

On missing every glitch,

For every type of hindrance waits

And you can’t plan on which

 

Will be the one to hold you up

And make your trip run late.

There are no guarantees despite

A smooth start out the gate.

 

So when “Expect delays” signs flash,

With alternates advised,

You might be ticked, but really,

You should never be surprised.

Stairs

 A house with stairs encourages 

The residents or guests

To exercise a little

As the layout thus suggests.

The up and down momentum

Never registers a thought

As family members make their way

To rooms that they have sought.

But often people, as they age,

Have trouble with the stairs.

No longer can they race on up

Or they’ll trip unawares.

A move may be in order

To a nice one-level space

Where there isn’t any staircase,

Letting people age in place.

Though the stairs present no challenge

In my current fitness state,

Many others that I know will find

This hindrance out too late.

Needing a Release

Sometimes it’s better to open your mouth

And other times, maybe it’s not.

Deciding between them is tricky, but still,

They’re the only two choices you’ve got.

If speaking up helps you feel better, I think 

You should go right ahead; trust your gut.

Though you may be advised, “Keep your thoughts to yourself,”

You may want to do anything but.

I might agonize much about stating my case,

But I rarely regret when I do,

For to harbor a feeling that needs a release

Means you’ll not have the chance to go, “Phew!”

Autumnatic

The trees here are starting to change,

Which, since it is fall, isn’t strange.

Some are orange, some red

Or bright yellow instead,

A new wardrobe that trees rearrange.

To me, it’s a magical time;

For being outdoors, it is prime.

To take walks, I’m inspired,

Though a jacket’s required,

At least in this northeastern clime.

There is ice cream that’s pumpkin, as well

As the apples and gourds orchards sell.

Oh, I wish it could stay 

Just like this every day -

I love autumn! (In case you can’t tell.)

A Sukkah

For a certain Jewish holiday,

A sukkah is erected,

An outdoor booth whose shelter

Keeps inhabitants protected.

Religious people take their meals

And socialize and sleep 

In this temporary structure,

So traditions they can keep.

Each year, a sukkah somehow

In my neighborhood appears

By the efforts of a local group

Of Jewish volunteers. 

It’s very bare-bones, just enough

To signal its intent

And those of the religion know

Exactly what is meant.

The sukkah stays there for a week;

Its visitors are few,

But yesterday I passed it

And I noticed something new.

An unhoused man was stretched out,

Like the sukkah was his home,

A different way to use it,

But just perfect for a poem.