Big Whoop

To New Year’s Eve, I say - big whoop!

What’s there to celebrate?

A year of stress and fear and loss

Which may not yet abate.

Of course there were some ups as well -

New babies born and time

To spend with grandkids, kith and kin,

To read and write some rhyme.

But overall, with Covid’s cloud 

Still hanging up above,

Let’s hope that in the coming year 

We’ll block it out with love.

After-Christmas Trees

The sign said, “Place your trees right here!”

And in a little while

A bunch of Christmas trees was tossed,

Quite neatly, in a pile.

 

I also saw a wreath or two,

Complete with bright red bows,

Surprising me for they looked fresh,

Not ready to dispose.

 

I guess when Christmas passes

All those evergreens must go

Before the needles scatter

On the carpets down below.

 

They still impart a lovely scent,

Into the air, of pine.

Perhaps it lingers still in some

Apartments, but not mine.

Our Time to Go

Unless one chooses suicide

We never really know

The place or day or circumstance

When it’s our time to go.

 

The long-time sick have some idea

But even then they might

Hang on much longer if somehow

They don’t give up the fight.

 

The saying goes to live each day

Like it might be our last

And face the future loosened from

The burdens of the past.

 

But in this time of Covid

With the virus uncontrolled,

So many planned adventures

Have been sadly put on hold.

 

Decisions going forward

With our lives should keep in mind

That we haven’t got a clue about

When we’ll be left behind.

The Mystery of Death

No one really can explain 

The mystery of death.

When someone’s time is up, there’s just

That quiet final breath.

An X-Ray, scan or bloodwork

Or the beeps from a machine

Give some stats to the physicians 

But what really does it mean?

We’ll all arrive there someday

And, despite the circumstance,

We can’t refuse the Reaper

When he asks for one last dance.

So all the doctors’ test results

And autopsies combined

May not be quite enough to bring

That longed-for peace of mind.

But thinking of a life well-lived

Might comfort those who’ve lost

A loved one whom into the

Great Beyond has sadly crossed.

Losing Sharon

The world’s a little colder;

There is less we can rely on

Without the ready shoulder

She would offer us to cry on.

The family’s less together

Since we’ll miss her calm demeanor

For no matter what the weather,

In her presence, grass was greener.

Now our lives have lost some luster

As our mourning days have started 

And it might be hard to muster

More than being broken-hearted.

*My dear sister-in-law, Sharon Ferguson,

passed away unexpectedly last night.

Christmas Roads

On Christmas Day the traffic’s light

For trips have all been made,

So if you’re on the road, perchance,

You will not be delayed.

To those who do not celebrate,

It’s wonderful to go

And drive on any highway

While your blood pressure stays low.

December 26th, however,

Tells a different tale.

The lanes are filled with vehicles 

Out looking for a sale

Or heading home from visits,

Trav’ling every road and pike

And so it’s back to usual

As pressures start to spike.

Covid Tests (to the tune of "Jingle Bells")

Dashing through the store

As you rummage through the shelves.

Why are there no more?

We need some special elves.

Order them online

But you may wait for weeks.

Though you’re feeling fine right now

These germs are little sneaks! Oh…

 

Covid tests, Covid tests –

Stick ‘em up your nose.

Hope that you are negative

As stress just overflows.

 

Covid tests, Covid tests –

Put your mind at ease.

Then you’ll feel superior

In case you cough or sneeze!

Snowfall Dusting

This morning’s snowfall dusting 

Was a school-day-off surprise 

And so exciting watching through

My grandkids’ eager eyes.

So shortly after breakfast

When I went to feed the birds,

“I’m coming with you, Nana,”

Were not unexpected words.

There were snowballs, mini-snowmen

And new paths tramped in the white,

A half an hour’s frolic

To my granddaughter’s delight.

My grandson’s choice was waiting 

To go out mid-afternoon.

Alas, he should have joined us

At a time more opportune.

For the temps went up and naturally,

It’s melted all away.

I’m glad, at least, one grandchild

Had the chance for snowy play.

Beauty Queens

Near Abu Dhabi, beauty queens

Must have expressive eyes.

Their droopy lips and shapely humps

Might help them earn a prize.

 

The competition’s very fierce;

Big bucks are the reward.

Contestants, in the thousands,

Strut around, appearing bored.

 

The winners, wearing necklaces

Designed to look like gold,

Bring honor to their owners

Right before each camel’s sold.

The Tourist Families

Watched the tourist families

As they strolled and shopped and sipped.

Without their masks, you might have thought

That Covid had been whipped.

 

They skated on the ice and bought

Hot chocolate and raclettes.

If germs were floating in the air

They didn’t feel their threats.

 

Yet all of my anxiety

Of Omicron infection,

Despite my jabs and distancing

And masks for my protection

 

Was not apparent, outwardly,

On anyone I saw.

I wish, like them, I could command

My worry to withdraw.

Repeating Myself

I’m the only one out here,

The benches all bare,

The sky full of clouds

And a chill in the air.

 

Yet it’s where I belong

Doing what I must do

And I’m lucky the river

Provides a great view.

 

Some joggers, some barges,

Some seagulls, some tugs –

A scene likely met with

Some “no big deal” shrugs.

 

Though I’ve said this before

Many times in a poem

On my bench by the river

I’m happily home.

Ozark

The Ozark Mountains stretch across

Five states in the U.S. –

Missouri, Oklahoma, Kansas,

Arkansas and yes,

 

Some parts of Illinois are, too,

Considered in the mix.

To city folk, the Ozarks

Can be rightly called “the sticks.”

 

I’m watching Netflix’s “Ozark” –

It’s a real terrific show

And today I watched the credits,

Thinking, well, what do you know?

 

The show’s filmed in Atlanta,

As in Georgia, a surprise.

Perhaps the Ozarks had some snags

They couldn’t televise.

 

I know that film’s locations

Take a lot of liberties

But when calling something “Ozark,”

Show us Ozark, if you please!

Eleven Thousand Cases

Eleven thousand cases

In the city gives me pause.

We know Omicron’s contagious

But the surge is there because…

 

People gather close together

After many’ve been exposed

To some others whose vaccines

Did not exist as one supposed.

 

These statistics make me crazy;

Feels like we are going back

To the way things were a year ago,

Completely out of whack.

Wearing a Girdle

Years ago when a woman got dressed

And she wanted to look at her best

She succumbed to the hurdle

Of wearing a girdle,

Believing she’d make folks impressed.

 

Its discomfort was seen to be worth

All the effort at hiding her girth

Yet the pain it would render

Meant only one gender

Would suffer, depending on birth.

 

For a man with his gut on display

Wouldn’t care what somebody would say.

Just more proof life’s not equal:

A female physique will

Be judged not by will but by weigh.

Stars

I saw some stars this morning,

Suspended in the sky,

Before the sunlight sneaked on in

And hid them by and by.

Yet since we only gaze at them 

When dark is fully on, 

What happens to their magic 

In the day when they are gone?

Of course, they’re up there waiting,

Even though they’re not in view,

Backstage without their twinkles

‘Til they get their nighttime cue.

If It Isn’t Fresh

 “If the coffee isn’t fresh, it’s free,”

The window sign declared.

Now, is that strange or is it me?

I wondered as I stared.

For who would choose a cup that’s stale

To save a bit of dough?

If that’s a way to make a sale,

It’s one I didn’t know.

"Get Back"

If you have movies taken back

When you were just a child,

You’ll know that seeing everyone

So young is really wild.

 

The clothes, the styles, the mannerisms

Take you to that time

When some on screen most likely had

Been living in their prime.

 

“Get Back” by Peter Jackson

Gives us all a chance to see

The Beatles at their finest

And most viewers would agree

 

That it captures, like in amber,

Glimpses perfectly preserved

Of four artists hard at work,

A process very few observed.

 

For the fans, it’s like rare treasure

We’ve been told that we can share,

When we didn’t even realize

All the riches waiting there.

 

As I watch, I’m not a nana

Or a teacher or a wife

But a teenaged girl just starting

On the path that’s been my life.

To Daniel F. O'Leary

To Daniel F. O’Leary:

I always pass your plaque

On mornings when I take my walk;

I note it coming back.

 

Your birth in 1938

And death at 64

Are all I know about you

But I wish that I knew more.

 

Yet someone cared enough

To place a plaque upon a bench,

Which tells me that perhaps you were

A stand-up guy, a mensch.

 

Though others may not notice

Or think twice about your name,

In my imagination

You have staked a tiny claim.

Solar Therapy

A sunny day just warms my soul,

Restores my scattered bits to whole

For lack of sunshine takes its toll

And who needs more depression?

 

I notice flowers still in bloom

And smell December’s crisp perfume

Which pass me by on days of gloom

Or else make no impression.

 

The outdoors beckons when the sun

Lights up the day for everyone.

My mood improvement’s now begun

With Dr. Sun in session.

Borrowing Some Sparkle

We couldn’t have a Christmas tree

Back in my childhood days,

Yet, longingly, on others’ trees

This Jewish girl would gaze.

 

So once the holiday had passed,

The neighbors tossed theirs out

And I’d collect the tinsel,

Surreptitiously, no doubt.

 

I’d then proceed to decorate

The shrubs around my house.

To me, they looked quite beautiful;

My mother, though, would grouse.

 

“Our holiday has candles

Which are wonderful to see!”

But to a child, there’s nothing like

The tinsel on a tree.

Going to the Movies

As an avid movie fan,

I loved to go and see

A film the day it opened

And my husband would agree.

 

We’d meet up on a Friday night;

I held our place in line

And once inside, we’d scope out seats

And they did not recline!

 

We brought our snacks or maybe splurged

On popcorn, butter-drenched

And stayed until the credits rolled,

Both thoroughly entrenched.

 

It changed for me when seats became

The big recliner types

And choosing seating in advance

Was one of many gripes.

 

The lure for me was mostly gone

When Covid hit the scene

And now it’s likely I will never

Watch a film on screen.

 

At home, relaxed, I get to see

The movies Netflix makes

And if I miss some I can’t see,

I feel like – them’s the breaks!

Burial

My father was buried December the 12th

Forty plus one years ago.

My memory, grief-tinged, is sketchy at best,

But one small occurrence I know.

We got to the chapel in separate cars

And just before heading inside,

I glanced all around to make sure all were there,

That each mourner had gotten a ride.

But someone was missing - I looked high and low

Yet my father was not to be found.

Then it hit me, like somebody smacking my face -

We were there to put him in the ground.

It’s so hard to accept someone so full of life

Bring snuffed like a candle’s last flame.

Though we learn to go on and the memories help, 

Still, life never will be quite the same.

More Musings

Seagulls squawk and pigeons coo;

What they’re saying – I’ve no clue.

They just do what they must do

To make it in the city.

 

Ferries float and tugboats tug;

Friends meet up and give a hug.

Maybe readers sigh and shrug –

More musings? ‘Tis a pity!

 

Still, I sit outside and write

At my favorite local site,

Gazing to my heart’s delight

At views I find so pretty…

Balancing Act

Annoyances add up so fast

That sometimes you might be aghast

When life does prolong

All the things going wrong

And your stress level can’t be surpassed.

 

For somehow when nits multiply,

Even calm people cannot deny

That each problem presents

Such a knot that prevents

Peace of mind and I’d like to know why.

 

I guess life’s a balancing act

And the odds against joy have been stacked.

If you’re happy one day

It gets taken away;

That’s a guaranteed bona fide fact.

Long Overdue

I’ve waited far too long to give

And get back in return

The kind of hug for which long- distance

Causes you to yearn.

But yesterday, at last, I did

Experience that treat 

And got to spend some precious time 

To make my joy complete.

When friendship’s deep and close and strong,

The phone keeps the connection,

Though there is nothing like a hug

To show some true affection.

Early Morning Walk

The playground hadn’t opened;

The sun had yet to rise

And many might think walking

In the dark would not be wise.

 

A mist hung by the river,

A tugboat pulled a barge;

The cars inched down the F.D.R.,

Their headlights looming large.

 

The puddles, partly hidden,

Glinted dully in the gloom,

Soon to saturate some sneakers

Not expecting them to loom.

 

It was magic to be walking;

The few others I did see

Were the regulars who love

Their early exercise, like me.

Tipping Time

The time of year to tip is here –

The doormen and the super,

The newspaper deliverers;

Unless you’re in a stupor…

 

You give some dough so they will know

That they’re appreciated

For cash is always welcome –

Booze or candy just seems dated.

 

My favorite quip about a tip:

A parking lot attendant

Who, maybe, was on Christmas tips

Especially dependent…

 

Received no gift so he was miffed

And left, for every owner,

A duplicate of his first card,

Encouraging each donor.

 

But this card said, in bold and red,

On top of “Season’s Greetings,”

“Second Notice!” which would not

Need any more repeatings.

Posture

My mother always told me

That my posture needed work.

Now, straighten up your shoulders!

A reminder I would shirk.

 

I’ve never stood up straight and tall

And sometimes I would see

On the street, a bent old woman,

Which I’d never want to be.

 

A neighbor had that happen –

Now she’s twisted like a crone,

A terrifying prospect

I’m determined to postpone.

 

So I checked it out on Google

How to keep my back erect

And I purchased their suggestion –

Posture straps that will correct.

 

Every day for 30 minutes

My contraption stays in place.

Though my stance may not improve

I will continue, just in case.

On Chanukah

On Chanukah we dreidel spin

And chocolate gelt we hope to win.

If we get Gimel ‘stead of Shin,

Let’s celebrate tonight.

 

We eat some latkes, oil-fried,

Which balabustas* made with pride,

With applesauce served on the side,

Our smiles sweet and bright.

 

At sundown as the candles glow

We tell the tale of long ago

And sing the Dreidel song we know,

Our spirits free and light.

 

We open presents, wrapped with care

To see the gifts well-hidden there;

With so much love for all to share,

It’s Chanukah, all right!

 

*impressively competent homemakers

The Greek Alphabet

In college, my sorority

Required us to learn

The alphabet in Greek,

Which we recited in our turn.

 

Since then, I’ve used it rarely –

In a crossword clue, perhaps –

As my brain recites those letters

That my memory unwraps.

 

Lately, though, with Covid’s Delta

And now Omicron’s new streak,

There’ve been many more occasions

To recall my long-lost Greek.

Tugboats and the Moon

Other places have their charms,

Like oceans, mountains, forests, farms

And I can visit and admire

Why they match someone’s desire

 

Yet no matter where I roam,

The city is, for me, my home.

Back in town from out of state,

My river walk did me await

 

And right away, what did I see?

A perfect moon, there just for me

And then, beneath that glowing sliver,

Gliding past upon the river

 

Two cool tugboats made me smile,

Doing tugboat work in style.

Mountains may make many swoon

But give me tugboats and the moon.