Double-Take

There’s a woman I pass in the mornings

Who prefers not to nod a hello,

Not unusual for a New Yorker;

That’s the way that these things often go.

 

She seems close to my age, but walks slower

And her clothing is baggy and loose,

Unlike most of us out there with leggings,

Which she’d likely not wear, I deduce.

 

Yet this morning I passed her and noticed,

As I swiveled for a double-take,

That her t-shirt was very familiar

And quite certainly not a mistake.

 

For it once nestled, folded quite nicely,

In a drawer with the rest of my tees,

But I’d donated it to the thrift shop

Where I bring things that no longer please.

 

I was glad to see somebody wear it

Who’d appraised it with different eyes,

Yet I wondered why I hadn’t kept it

As an exercise shirt in my size.

Perfect

For something to be perfect 

Patience surely is required,

Especially for projects

You would like to be admired.

A recipe you’ve never tried,

A quilt that you are sewing,

Some pictures to be framed,

A garden that’s in need of mowing.

A painting you are working on, 

A home repair or cleaning -

You’re either patient or you’re not;

There is no in-betweening.

I am not a patient person;

Slap-dash is my stock in trade.

Behind each hanging on my walls,

Just count the holes I’ve made.

My quilting stitches don’t line up

Yet still, I do feel proud

When a project is completed;

Imperfection is allowed.

With my poems I’m much more patient

As I work on every line.

I would never call them perfect,

But most definitely mine.

Robes A'Flowing

Has your doctor ever treated you

When wearing robes a’flowing,

Gently laying hands while all around

There’s light that’s brightly glowing?

 

That depiction sounds more biblical

Than hospital-type care.

To post a picture of himself,

Like that, just one would dare.

 

Now I am not a Christian, but

That image does offend.

How can true believers ever

Such idolatry defend?

 

But chalk it up to just another

Way to lose more hope,

Right alongside the insulting,

Made in public, of the Pope.

 

The bar can’t drop much lower

As the world can only mock

Words and actions of one so deranged

We can’t absorb the shock.

Meeting for an Early Lunch

In our younger days we met for dinner;

Now it’s mainly lunch.

We needn’t rush; since we’re retired,

Time slots we don’t crunch.

 

We pack up meals we’ve ordered,

For we’ve barely eaten half

And when waiters ask, “Dessert or wine?”

We shake our heads and laugh.

 

We stop a stranger, asking if

He’ll snap our photo please.

He sees four senior citizens

So he, of course, agrees.

 

But what he cannot understand

(No reason that he should)

Is that, though we look old to him,

There is the likelihood

 

That we’ve lived through so many things

He’s only read about

And though he’ll have his own adventures,

There is little doubt

 

That we add up to so much more

Than what his pix reveal –

Four smiling alte kakers*

Clutching what’s left of our meal.

 

*a Yiddish expression meaning old farts

A Smattering of Seeds

A bagel worth its salt should have

A smattering of seeds,

‘Cause sesame or poppy

Is what every bagel needs.

 

A pumpernickel, though, requires

Caraways mixed in

And those that we call “everything”

Most always score a win.

 

To anyone who orders “plain,”

I have one thing to say:

(And do not get me started

On blueberries in the way)

 

I understand some seed-o-phobics

Think that they deserve

A bagel in its purest state,

But what you might observe

 

Is most New Yorkers find that seeds,

And more than just a smattering,

Are what, with New York water,

Make our bagels really mattering.

The Artemis Splashdown

The auditorium was filled

With every class in school.

On stage, a small TV set sat –

For sure, too miniscule.

 

The year was ’61 or 2,

A spaceship set to go,

With either Alan Shepard

Or John Glenn; I do not know.

 

But we’d been prepped and we were psyched;

We watched in silent awe,

Though only those in front were sure

Of what they really saw.

 

I though of that last night as I

Was fixed on my TV

To watch the capsule slowly drift

And plop into the sea.

 

To many younger folk, this wasn’t

Much of a big deal.

They couldn’t quite experience

What those my age did feel

 

Remembering so long ago

When space was the frontier

We thought we’d conquer, but that was

A different atmosphere.

Reading Reviews

Before an online purchase

Often I read the reviews

To gather some opinions on

An object I might choose 

Or a hotel or a restaurant 

To which I plan to go;

There might be helpful info

I would really like to know.

The problem with reviews is that

They’re all composed by those

Who are strangers with a lifestyle

I might very well oppose. 

Of course, the opposite might be

The truth; I must decide

Whether what they’re recommending

Would be worthwhile as a guide.

I still like reading others’ thoughts

On things they have inspected,

Though likely their advice will get

An almost-sale rejected.