Good Riddance

One New Year’s Eve, a frigid night,

We visited a friend

For a festive celebration

We were happy to attend.

 

On leaving, though, we found our car,

Its windshield quite a mess.

An egg was smashed across the glass;

It froze, as you might guess.

 

It took us ages just to scrape

Enough away to drive,

Our freezing toes and fingers

Taking hours to revive.

 

Some other New Year’s eves evoke

Strong images, as well,

Of parties, dinners, shows and friends,

All safe where mem’ries dwell.

 

Alas, tonight, there won’t be much

To conjure up, I fear,

Except we bade good riddance

To a really awful year.

Countdown

In junior high, one day a week

The radio would play

The top hits, 25 of them

And so, without delay

 

My friend and I would hurry home

And hang out in her room

To hear the countdown, which,

Like m&m’s, we would consume.

 

I kept a notebook, writing down

From 25 to 1,

The songs we heard and wouldn’t leave

Until the list was done.

 

Today my radio is tuned

To classic QXR,*

The countdown, from 100,

Very beautiful so far.

 

When midnight strikes to end the year,

They’ll play the final choice

And like I did in junior high,

(If I’m up), I’ll rejoice.

 

*WQXR – the classical music station of NYC

Drawing to a Close

The year is drawing to a close

And all are hoping, I suppose,

That once it’s 2021,

A better time will have begun.

 

Yet it won’t happen overnight

For Covid still retains its bite

And even with the new vaccines,

We can’t go back to our routines.

 

Some darker days are still ahead -

The winter filling me with dread -

As rates of positivity

Rise up, the proof we’re not home free.

 

Amidst these thoughts of gloom and doom,

At least we can rely on Zoom

To see our family and our friends

Until the time this nightmare ends. 

Stay-in Pants

I went outside with stay-in pants

But no one even gave a glance

For masks on people just enhance

Invisibility.

 

Before this, when I wasn’t seen,

I thought such ignorance must mean

That younger folk just aren’t keen

On older ones like me.

 

I much prefer to blame the mask

Than taking those with youth to task,

But am I bothered? you might ask.

I’m fine; my pants agree.

Boxing Day

The calendar said Boxing Day

But not to honor Cassius Clay

Or who he then became, Ali,

Or any boxer there might be.

 

And so I Googled to find out

Exactly what the day’s about.

In England, servants had to work

On Christmas Day, so as a perk

 

The next day they had off to rest,

Their own festivities suppressed.

Their masters, though, gave each some gifts,

Within a box, for spirit lifts.

 

The servants went to visit kin;

Their holiday could then begin

For most of them were very poor

And needed what the boxes bore.

 

Thus Boxing Day attained its place

As something that the Brits embrace

Although through time, traditions drop

And folks now use this day to shop.

My Calendars

I always bought my calendars

On this date in December.

The prices had been cut by half

And that’s why I remember.

 

I purchased two for different walls

And one for desk-top viewing,

With different pages every day

To read, as I’ve been doing.

 

The local Barnes & Noble

Had a lovely huge collection.

I got there when it opened

So I’d have the best selection.

 

Alas, that store fell victim

To the Covid shut-downs here

Though I wouldn’t have set foot inside,

My paranoia clear.

 

The calendars, like everything,

I located online.

I paid full-price, but got them quick

And that worked out just fine.

Christmas Day

I’ve never had a Christmas tree

Nor stockings filled with treats.

I’ve never gone to midnight mass

Nor hoped for Santa-meets.

 

I’ve never woken Christmas morn

With presents to unwrap

And no one in my household

Ever wore a stocking cap.

 

I’ve never eaten Christmas ham

Or fruitcake and to drink,

My sibs and I stirred rags for “eggnog”

In the basement sink.

 

But don’t feel bad for me because

I celebrated, too.

The holiday of Chanukah

Was what my family knew.

 

We had our presents and our foods

And candles every night,

With songs and family gathered ‘round,

Eight days of pure delight.

 

But still, today, I’d like to wish

Amid the bright displays,

To all my Christmas friends

The very merriest of days.

On Christmas Eve

It’s warm today for Christmas eve,

Another case, I do believe

Of nothing feeling like it should;

I’d scratch this year off, if I could.

 

Of course, there were some babies born

So everyone was not forlorn

Including those who hated Trump;

Perhaps we’ll soon be past the hump.

 

Yet in the days and weeks ahead

We may be hanging by a thread

So on this Christmas, let us hope

We have the tools to help us cope.

Flowering

My thumb’s not any shade of green

Yet on my windowsill

Are varied plants in flowerpots,

So water them, I will.

 

Most stay the same; they grow a bit

But really do not thrive,

Although I’m happy just to know

They somehow stay alive.

 

And yet my orchid plant (a gift)

Has flowered several times

Despite the fact my city home’s

Not like its native climes.

 

I watch the buds and patiently

Await their opening

So grateful to them these dark days

For all the joy they’ll bring.

A Covid Winter

 It’s official - winter’s here 

With lots of things to bug us - 

The cold, the dark, the snow, the ice 

And this year, none to hug us.

Of course, there’s also coziness

Indoors with hearths and cocoa,

Except this year, when all this

Inside time will drive us loco.

A Covid winter won’t be like 

All others, I’m supposin’

But most of us would much prefer

To be with friends and frozen!

National Crossword Puzzle Day

 My pencil is ready;

The boxes are bare.

I look at the clues

That are luring me there.

I always begin

With the first clue across,

Continuing on

Until I’m at a loss.

I do not despair 

If a few I can’t solve

But begin on the down clues

With extra resolve.

The empty spots beckon;

They yearn to be filled 

And if I’m successful

I’m quietly thrilled.

Today is the date when

We puzzlers cheer

For since 1913,

One a day does appear.

Anti-Maskers (a parody of "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer)

I think that I can guarantee

That many who remain mask-free

 

Make others who are rules-obsessed

Both furious and super-stressed

 

And wishing they could find a way

To make uncovered faces pay

 

For those whose nose and mouth are bare

Are thus proclaiming, “I don’t care!”

 

The maskers of the world retain

Their diligence, perhaps in vain

 

Unless vaccines will set them free;

I hope that there’s a dose for me!

My Phone

I couldn’t live without my phone

Although when I was younger,

Since mobile phones did not exist,

I didn’t have that hunger.

 

I waited ‘til I got back home

To call a friend for schmoozing.*

My mom would write a message,

If I got one, for perusing.

 

Encyclopedias were there

To look up information.

No Google at my fingertips –

That was the situation.

 

A Kodak camera using film

Took photos that I needed.

Alarm clocks woke me up

So my anxiety receded.

 

Each application on my phone –

The games and WAZE and weather –

Are things I never had on hand,

At least not all together.

 

I lived without them easily,

Not feeling discontented

Until, of course, the year in which

The iPhone was invented!

 

*chatting, shooting the breeze

Gone

Although the streets are filled with snow

And possibly with ice,

I watch the young folk come and go,

Not even thinking twice.

 

In groups or pairs or quite alone

They navigate with ease,

Not worried that they’ll break a bone

Or end up on their knees.

 

I recognize that youthful grit

That keeps them jogging on.

I had it, too, but I’ll admit,

That confidence is gone.

Hand-made

A snow day was good motivation

For letting creative juice flow.

I needed a gift

So it gave me a lift

To put something together to sew.

 

I first thought I’d order from Etsy

But realized that I had the skill

To craft a design

And to make it all mine

Which, I have to admit, was a thrill.

 

I’m not talented like with my rhyming

Though my project still made me feel proud

Since a present hand-made

In which love is displayed

Will most surely stand out in a crowd.

Listening

Hearing is important

But what’s often very clear

Is that sometimes what’s been said

Goes in and out the other ear.

 

But listening gives access to

The message that’s implicit

And those who fail to do so

May be quick to just dismiss it.

 

The difference may seem subtle

Yet when hurt keeps reappearing

It’s a sign that no one’s listening

To words they’re merely hearing.

What's Impending

The word is out – the snow will come,

The inches still in question.

Make sure you’ve stocked up all your shelves!

(Of course, just a suggestion.)

 

The hype’s begun; to ratchet fear

Some rules have been suspended

So you may neither shop nor park

In places you intended.

 

The weathermen repeat this news

At least six times an hour,

The only ones oblivious

Stuck in an ivory tower.

 

There’s not a lot to do but wait

To see if the prediction

Of what’s impending proves to be

A fact or merely fiction.

Gift-Giving

When someone gives someone a gift

It might give the gift giver a lift

Yet it could be a waste

If it’s not to her taste

But to say so may make someone miffed.

 

For it’s easy to make a mistake

Though relationships never should break

If a present’s not right

To bring someone delight;

Surely nothing important’s at stake.

 

Since a search for a gift is so hard,

With so many things you must regard,

Save the effort next year;

Of all presents steer clear.

It’s much easier sending a card.

Film Shoot

There’s a movie shoot in my neighborhood

And lots of signs announce

That all parked cars for 4 blocks ‘round

Must move or police will pounce.

 

By 3 p.m. the vehicles

Still there could then be towed,

Plus fined for violation of

This 2-day parking code.

 

Nobody likes when this occurs –

It’s hard to find a spot –

But during the pandemic,

Well, some tempers run real hot.

 

The signs torn down were all replaced

But I would place a bet

That cars will just ignore them –

Not one spot is vacant yet.

 

Tomorrow should be interesting

When the shoot begins –

The film crew vs. scofflaws:

There’ll be just one side that wins.

Dot-to-Dot

 Most kids like dot-to-dot a lot;

I guess I once did, too. 

The problem is, the picture’s

Always obvious to view.

Before she’s gone from 1 to 2,

My granddaughter, who’s 5,

Announces, “It’s a bird or girl,”

Not falling for their jive.

She still connects the numbers,

Since she’s learning them right now,

But there isn’t any mystery 

In what the dots allow.

In Descise

 My second grade grandson’s a writer,

His stories creative and fun,

With spelling that’s just as creative

As the story he’s joyfully spun.

Most often I’m quick to decipher

The words that I don’t understand 

But sometimes I’m stymied by letters

Not quite what the books would demand.

So today I resorted to asking 

What word was in front of my eyes.

The obvious answer (to someone)

Was, “Nana - of course, it’s disguise!”

A Cardinal Pair

Met a friend in Central Park;

As we were sitting there,

Behind me, near the bushes,

Were two cardinals – a pair.

 

We saw the female first but didn’t

Recognize the type

Until the male swooped over,

Just as bright as all the hype.

 

On Google I discovered

That when cardinals appear

They stand for positivity,

Which we all need this year.

 

A cardinal can also

Be a symbol of romance

Or a messenger from one who’s died,

To comfort one, perchance.

 

But even if those symbols

Don’t apply, I wouldn’t care.

I was happy that they chose

That little garden patch to share.

Chanukah Cookies

I’m almost out of flour

And my sugar’s at the end.

I do not have sweet butter

On which I, of course, depend.

 

Since I’m not going into stores,

I’m ordering from sites

That quickly get depleted

From competing appetites.

 

Yet with my grandma’s recipe,

Each Chanukah I bake

The cookies I grew up on,

Long and tedious to make.

 

I scraped together just enough

To make a smallish batch.

Most years I mail some to my sibs

But that I had to scratch.

 

Yet still, I rolled the dough and watched

The shapes take form and brown.

On Chanukah, I couldn’t let

My kids and grandkids down.

December 8th

Forty years ago today

Was when John Lennon died.

The world was shocked and saddened

Watching peace and death collide.

 

My dad was in the hospital –

His triple bypass failed –

So while all John’s fans were mourning,

My entire life derailed.

 

Two deaths forever intertwined

With tragic disbelief

Will always bring me, on this date,

Back to that searing grief.

Sprinkled

My husband wants his ashes sprinkled

Right in Central Park.

He’s picked the spot and hopes that I

Find that specific mark.

 

Of course, I hope I predecease

So someone else will do it.

In that case, he’ll have my request

And hope that he hops to it.

 

For I would like the gardens near

The river to embrace

What’s left of me, for that would be

The perfect resting place.

 

Why not tossed into the water?

You may think I’m slightly dim

But although I’ll just be ashes,

I can barely even swim!

What the River Can Deliver

What the river can deliver

Is a sense of calm and peace.

While it’s flowing, it is showing

Me anxiety’s release.

 

Sun rays glisten as I listen

To the slapping of the waves

And the chugging of boats tugging

Is a sound my spirit craves.

 

For my money, when it’s sunny,

There is not another place

Where just sitting is befitting

All the stillness I embrace.

Filled with Song

Many people spend their days

With total inattention

To any music, which to me

Defies my comprehension.

 

The radio’s flipped on as soon

As I get out of bed

And plays all day except for times

The TV’s on instead.

 

From classical to blues to rock

My world is filled with song

And only when there’s music

Do I feel that I belong.

 

Without some melody, a home

Is quiet as a tomb

But with those notes surrounding me,

My spirits start to bloom.

Two Squirrels

 On a walk in the ‘burbs

I was startled to see

Two squirrels at work

In a way new to me.

Each was clenching, with teeth, 

Something plastic and weird.

(For a squirrel, at least,

That is how it appeared.)

One raced with a container

That used to hold milk

And the other’s held mustard

Or food of that ilk.  

So my question is what

Were they planning to do 

With containers like that?

Oh, how I wish I knew!

Famous

The daughter* of our friends has searched

For years to gain some fame.

Her comedy has paid the bills

But hadn’t brought acclaim.

 

Until one sketch went viral

And an actress we all know

Put it on her “wall” and suddenly,

Her rep began to grow.

 

The talk shows all invited her;

Her fan base multiplied.

She reached a million views and now

Is recognized outside.

 

One tap from a celebrity,

Like from a magic wand,

Can make one famous ‘round the world

And possibly beyond.

 

*her name is Robyn Schall – check her out!

Oh, Amazon

Oh, Amazon, oh Amazon

You give my life such meaning

For letting me buy all my gifts

While safely quarantining.

 

At birthday time or Chanukah

(Which makes it more ironica)

Oh, Amazon, oh Amazon

My purchasing’s a pleasure.

 

When what I need is in a store

Which I refuse to enter,

One click and you can show me more

Up close and front and center.

 

The things I buy get sent on time;

No shipping costs when I use Prime

Oh, Amazon, oh Amazon

You really are a treasure.

Creativity

Necessity is said to be

The mother of invention

But creativity, as well,

Takes on a new dimension

 

When there are lots of hours at hand

With room for contemplation;

A wisp of an idea may sow

The seeds of innovation.

 

Our former lives were occupied

With work and school and travel,

Such busy-ness our knotted brains

Had no chance to unravel.

 

But extra time within the day

Lets whimsy glow and glisten,

Igniting those creative sparks

Since we have time to listen.