Tuesday, July 21, 2026

The Wedding Couple

The smiling bride, the handsome groom –

A happy couple, you’d assume –

Arranged before a camera’s click,

A moment captured, swift and slick.

 

The tension not apparent there –

Instead, a calm and lovely pair,

Which no observer would suspect

Was, from the stresses, close to wrecked.

 

Beneath their unsuspecting gaze,

Their married life, in every phase,

Awaits the pleasures and the pain

That newlyweds can’t ascertain.

 

Within its frame, on shelf or wall,

(Unless removed with break-up’s call)

The handsome groom and smiling bride

Stare at the future, side by side.

Monday, July 20, 2026

Seen On My Walk

Seen on my walk – a delivery truck

Was being unloaded. One box

Was plunked on the ground; some may be out of luck

For its eggs might have suffered some shocks.

 

Another block on, there was parked on the street,

With a fender that suffered a wham!

A new pick-up truck named, just to make it complete,

In big letters, you guessed it – a RAM!

 

Saw three pickleball games and a guy with green hair –

Just a typical 6 a.m. sight.

In the city, no matter the time, you’ll be where

Something’s sure to surprise or delight.

Sunday, July 19, 2026

Cocktail Hour

My aunt complained at “cocktail hour,”

All they served was juice,

The definition of this drink,

Sans alcohol, too loose.

 

She’s in assisted living now,

At almost 98;

With many neighbors wheelchair-bound,

She simply can’t relate.

 

Her balance is an issue, though,

And even with her phone,

It’s clear that, though she disagrees,

She shouldn’t be alone.

 

I can’t imagine being told

That others can decide

That where you’ve lived no longer is

The place where you’ll reside.

 

It may be necessary; still,

Though safety’s a concern,

The loss of one’s autonomy

Is something I would spurn. 

Saturday, July 18, 2026

The AQI

The AQI* has me obsessed.

I check it every hour

And rising numbers get me stressed;

It’s not within our power

 

To change what all the wildfires wrought.

The smoky haze that’s drifting,

Despite how first responders fought,

Is growing and keeps shifting.

 

So miles away, our air is filled

With particles unhealthy

And, though the fighting crews are skilled,

Pollutants are quite stealthy.

 

While venturing outside, we might

Breathe ozone and some oxides,

Invisible to normal sight

But felt inside as toxides.

 

The AQI goes up and down,

With warnings – if you’re older,

Don’t venture out around the town

While fires burn or smolder.

 

*Air Quality Index

Friday, July 17, 2026

Tick Tick Tick

Just read two different articles 

About a certain tick -

The lone star - which can make

A person very, very sick.


Of course, we’ve heard of Lyme disease

(Which deer ticks often spread),

But lone stars may cause allergies

Which make some people dead.


A syndrome, known as alpha-gal,

Passed on by this tick’s bite,

May trip a strange reaction 

Which the body cannot fight.


So someone eating burgers

Or a lamb chop or a steak 

Might go into shock if prior,

A tick’s bite his skin did break.


It seems ironic that in summer,

Life is lived outside,

The perfect place where all these 

Little buggers like to hide.




Thursday, July 16, 2026

Outlier

I go to bed early.

I do not use Zelle.

When changes occur in life,

I don’t do well.


I no longer drive

And, though crowds I’ll avoid,

I like life in the city;

Still, I get annoyed


By unwarranted noise

Sometimes blasting outside

From a scooter or car,

Music I can’t abide.


With no iPad, I type

On a desktop P.C.

And the coffee I perk

On the stove works for me.


Where religion’s concerned,

I’m a Jew, but don’t pray 

And my politics veer

Far from You-Know-Who’s sway.


I’m technology-challenged,

Afraid of A.I.,

So the outlier handle

I will not deny.

Wednesday, July 15, 2026

Power

Based on delusions,

Some people’s conclusions

Absolve them of guilt or of blame 

And oozing effusions,

At times in profusions,

Make power the name of the game.


And when those wielding power

Cause others to cower,

There’s less of a chance to reclaim

What once bloomed like a flower

But dims by the hour

As democracy withers in shame.