A pair of combat boots in black,
Abandoned
on the top
Of
the ramp right by the river
Brought
me to a sudden stop.
Beside
them was a khaki shirt,
Its
arms tied to the rail.
Together
they suggested
That
their owner tried to bail.
For
a leap into the river,
When
nobody is about,
Seems
to be a way to end one’s life,
An
urban exit out.
There
might be an explanation,
Unlike
mine, about those boots,
But
the evidence implies my theory’s
What
this constitutes.
When the TV screen is split, your eyes
Bounce
back and forth and back
So
you’ll never miss a player
Executing
his attack.
Since
the tennis crowds go crazy
When
the match is near the end,
Viewers
like to see the pros
And
if their leads they can defend.
On
one side we watch the women
And
the other side, the men,
As
they serve and slice and volley
And
repeat it all again.
But
when one match has a winner
Then
the split screen goes away
And
we concentrate on just one game,
Two
players on display.
Every year in a village in Spain
Is
a festival kind of insane,
For
the people are stoked
To
get totally soaked
By
tomatoes and none will complain.
Thousands
flock to the town, well-aware
That
tomatoes will fly through the air.
Though
they might seem like fools,
If
they follow the rules,
They’ll
experience something quite rare.
To
ensure the event’s a success,
The
tomatoes are squashed, more or less.
Then
the hurling begins
And,
through red-splattered grins,
All
participants romp in the mess.
A middle school in Texas
Banned
its kids from wearing black,
Claiming
mental health’s affected
By
the clothes upon one’s back.
In
the ruling, “criminality”
Was
also being named,
In
addition to depression,
With
black clothing being blamed.
Are
the powers-that-be suggesting
That,
by switching one’s attire,
An
amazing shift to happiness
In
pupils would transpire?
Every
shrink should thus be fired
For,
once black becomes taboo,
All
the students will wear rainbows
And
just smiles will be on view.
Wearing wide suspenders,
With a walker as an aid,
He slowly ambled down the street,
Protected by the shade.
I noticed those suspenders,
Once bright yellow but still cool,
For they looked just like a ruler
You would use in math at school.
As I passed, I turned to compliment
His snazzy sense of style
And from him and his companion,
That elicited a smile.
This is why I love the city,
Since you always can expect
To encounter someone new
With some small reason to connect.
Where we sleep there might be quilts
Or comforters or spreads
Or blankets made in varied styles
To warm us in our beds.
Some might prefer a cashmere throw
Or one hand-knit in wool,
While others cozy up to down
And can’t resist its pull.
A cotton blanket, or velour,
Keeps many feeling snug,
While weighted covers, loved by few,
In most evoke a shrug.
A coverlet atop a bed
Will make it look complete,
Yet lots of sleepers get along
With just an unlined sheet.
Still, no matter what your preference,
Any cover is okay,
But be careful that your partner
Doesn’t tug it all away!
If everyone gave tit for tat,
Who knows where we would all be at
For every slight that we perceive
Bounced back to make another grieve
Would keep the cycle going ‘til
We finally would have our fill
Which would be never, for to reach
Another’s heart across the breach,
We need a willingness to bend
And then, before we reach the end,
There must be someone waiting there
To take the time and really care.
Until that day, there’ll always be
A lack of opportunity
To work through feelings that arise
When one may, cluelessly, surmise
A disregard and therefore, that
Will cause another tit for tat.
Legos, crayons, yo-yo’s, shells,
Key chains, postcards, notes from camp,
Magnifying glasses, tokens
And a clip-on bedside lamp…
Action figures, racing cars,
Sticker books and rubber snakes,
Pez dispensers, memo pads and
Statuettes with cracks and breaks…
Baseball cards and ping-pong balls,
Loose erasers, sweatbands, dice -
Most would take a glance and toss ‘em,
Never even thinking twice.
Going through my kids’ old treasures,
That is what I try to do
And, though progress has been made,
It will be hours before I’m through.
Sometimes in a store I browse
And other times I buy.
It all depends on what they’ve got
That might just catch my eye.
And even if I fall in love,
An item might not make it
For if I can’t display it,
There’s no reason I should take it.
Today, 3 times that happened -
Two with posters, one sans frame.
I just don’t have the wall space
So I couldn’t stake my claim.
The last, a set of tumblers,
Painted with assorted eyes,
Turned the concept of “eye glasses”
Into such a fun surprise.
Still, I had to stop and ponder
If the joke was worth the price
And I came to the conclusion
That the mem’ry would suffice.
Yet I also made 2 purchases-
Some clothing and a gift
Which, along with pumpkin ice cream,
Gave my day a welcome lift.
I haven’t yet watched the Convention
For reasons too boring to mention,
Yet I’ve heard every speech
Was so good, it might reach
All the voters who need intervention.
I will Google and catch up in time;
I’m too tired to stay up when it’s prime.
Though I’m set on my vote,
I still wanted to note
Its importance and do it in rhyme.
Our grandkids have something
Our
kids never had –
Two
grands on the side of
Both
mother and dad.
Our
son is their daddy.
We’re
urban and vote
For
the Democrats and
Of
the arts we take note.
The
others (that’s Grandma
And
Pop-Pop) watch Fox.
Their
life in the suburbs
Avoids
city blocks.
Yet
we all love the grandkids;
They
see us and smile,
Despite
how we watch them,
In
unalike style.
With
parents away, we have
Split
up the week.
We’ve
just passed the baton,
Our
turn done, so to speak.
Our
children are lucky,
(They
don’t know how much)
With
two fit sets of grands
To
come through in the clutch.
Today my grandson played trombone;
His sister danced around
As this nana and their grandpa
Soaked up every move and sound.
For as they grow up, it isn’t always
Easy or stress-free,
But this mid-day concert made the day
As good as it could be.
The time ahead is limited
So now we must enjoy
Every upbeat minute with our very
Favorite girl and boy.
My grandparents were in my life
Through all my childhood days.
It wasn’t ‘til my 30’s
That we sadly parted ways.
Yet did they really know me?
They adored me and were proud,
Though the time we spent together
Mostly happened in a crowd.
Our visits came with aunts and uncles,
Cousins, meals and such,
But as to one on one time,
Well, there wasn’t very much.
Today, though, things are different;
Expectations are, as well.
We still adore our grandkids
And, of course, we also kvell.*
Still, I try, but can’t imagine
How my grandparents would fare
Doing what we do, because the difference
Is beyond compare.
*to burst with pride
A warning sounded on my phone -
An elongated beep -
So loud it must be meant to wake
Whoever is asleep…
Alerting me that there could be,
Within my current range,
A dangerous flash flood, which I
Found really kind of strange.
There is no river and no lake
For many miles around
And certainly no ocean
Barreling towards higher ground.
Yet I was warned, “Stay off the roads
And don’t attempt to drive
For if a flash flood strikes you would
Be lucky to survive.”
The warning did its job and scared me
Near out of my pants.
Although the sun’s come out, you think I’d drive?
No, not a chance!
If I had a skateboard
I’d
make up some tricks
And
toss in some old ones,
My
own special mix.
I’d
glide down a staircase
And
leap in the air.
To
show off my skills,
I’d
accept any dare.
All
the people who noticed
My
age from my face
Would
be shocked by the stunts
They
would see taking place.
If
I had a skateboard,
I
know in my gut,
It
would take merely seconds
To
fall on my butt.
Sent my friend a birthday card;
So
it would not be late,
I
mailed it more than one whole week
Before
her special date.
Her
birthday came and went and yet
She
never got my card.
It
had the right address and stamp,
So
what could be so hard?
Today
that card came back to me,
“Return
to Sender” stamped.
I
think the local P.O.
Really
needs to be revamped.
I’ll
see that friend a week from now
And
hand her what I sent.
The
envelope is proof, though,
Of
my early-bird intent.
Phoenix was a local shop,
As funky as could be,
And most times when I’d visit,
There’d be something there for me.
The owner and his partner
Loved to travel and explore
And from everywhere they went,
Their shopping sprees would stock the store.
From jewelry to sculpture,
Blankets, pottery and rugs,
Every item held your interest,
Not a place for yawns or shrugs.
Took a ride today to Phoenix
And the shop was just a shell,
Not one object there to look at,
Nothing left for them to sell.
One more loss I must acknowledge -
That’s the way things seem to go.
Soon there won’t be anything around
Of what I used to know.
There’s nothing like a screened-in porch
To help me to relax.
It brings to me a comfort
My apartment surely lacks.
The birdsong and the swishing leaves,
The swaying of the trees,
Combined with the caresses
Of the gentle summer breeze
All add up to such a fine retreat
That, on this lovely day,
Every stressor in my life is somehow
Swatted clean away.
My sister almost missed her flight,
But made it by a hair.
An accident and traffic
Slowed her down from getting there.
It made me think of years ago,
When you could reach your gate
Just minutes from the takeoff
And it wouldn’t be too late.
No TSA, no pat-downs,
Friends and family by your side;
With shoes and belts and jackets on,
You took things in your stride.
One memory stands out when we
Were late and we were told
Our seats were gone but we could fly,
If we could be cajoled
To fly first class. How much? we asked.
Oh, there’s no extra charge.
We laughed and so enjoyed that flight,
A taste of living large.
My bathroom has a radio
Connected
to the switch
That
controls the light, so people think
That
there’s some kind of glitch.
But
whoever needs to use it
Hears
the weather and the news
And
the traffic and the sports
And
some instructive interviews.
Now
those voices, so familiar,
Will
be missing since I’ve learned
That
the station, CBS-AM’s
About
to be adjourned.
Also
called News 88, it’s been,
For
close to 60 years,
Keeping
all New Yorkers up to date
With
news as it appears.
I
know change is bound to happen
But
I will not have a clue
About
all the latest news if I
Don’t
hear it in the loo!
Families are complex,
For the ties that somehow bind us
Are the ones that go way back
To all the years that are behind us.
If it’s nature or it’s nurture,
Once to others we’ve connected,
All our lives we’re stuck together,
Or at least that’s what’s expected.
So we celebrate our big events
And join together, sharing
Bonds reminding us that for these times
We’ve always been preparing.
Visiting some family,
We sit and watch TV,
But mostly it’s a show or movie
I don’t want to see.
Today, though, the Olympics
Kept me smiling and content
With a level of excitement
Worth the hours that we spent.
Though it’s nice to see my sister,
Aunt and cousins, truth be told,
It is sweeter while we watch the U.S,
Going for the gold.
When something arrives and I learn
That
it’s going to need a return,
It’s
annoying to wait
For
a different date;
Getting
rid of it is my concern.
Yet
when circumstance doesn’t allow
Me
the chance to return it right now,
I
will stare at the box,
Which
will seem like it mocks
Me
for ordering it anyhow.
It
may sit there for several days,
Even
more if there are some delays,
Simply
taking up room,
Which
is why, I presume,
Online
buying, like crime, rarely pays.
Trump says he wants to debate,
But
canceled the ABC date.
Could
he be afraid,
For
the plans had been made
And
he’s taken it off of his plate?
Instead,
he suggested that Fox,
The
place where his Maga crew flocks,
Would
be better to air
A
debate that is fair –
(More
supportive to him and his knocks).
Though
I dread hearing more of his rants,
His
opponent won’t give him the chance
To
spout lie after lie
Which
would justify why
We
would watch as he loses his pants.
When do you replace the old?
Of
course, when something breaks
Or
starts to show its age and causes
Subtle
double-takes.
When
things no longer seem in style
Or
might be torn or frayed
Or
if a dozen versions
Of
your phone have since been made.
Perhaps
you see your current couch
On
retro TV shows,
Where
actresses appear to wear
Some
of your closet clothes.
There
comes a time when normal folks
Replace,
with no regret,
The
items that need updates
But
alas, I’m not there yet.
A gift arrives from Amazon
Without
the sender’s name,
So
there’s no way to tell exactly
Whom
to thank or blame.
You
can’t exactly call around
To
ask your friends or fam
And
so, as a result, you find
Yourself
in quite a jam.
Eventually,
someone will
Reach
out, an awkward ask,
To
see if it arrived
Or
take your thanklessness to task.
Though
Amazon is easier,
It
wasn’t all that hard
When
we sent gifts ourselves
And
always tucked inside a card.
We do a monthly Zoom call,
A
group of long-time friends,
And
catch up on our lives before
The
80 minutes ends.
Since
we are of a certain age,
Our
tech skills lack finesse,
So
sometimes we appear online
With
varying success.
Today
there was a brand-new snag
When,
in somebody’s box,
Her
image showed up upside-down,
A
seeming paradox.
The
issue never got resolved
For
the entire Zoom.
It
drove me nuts, but no one else
Was
bothered, I presume.
The threat of rain’s kept folks away,
But
out here by the river,
The
sparrows flock when I sit down,
To
see what I’ll deliver.
I
never feed them, but I guess
That
other humans do
And
so they hop around my bench
In
case some crumbs I’ll strew.
When
minutes pass, they flit away
To
find another source
As
I gaze out at choppy waves
While
feeling no remorse.
When you don’t expect a thunderstorm,
It
sure can take its toll,
Being
at the mercy of a power
Out
of your control.
You
can hide or duck for cover
Or
confront it and get soaked,
For
the rage that it embodies
Needs
no cause to be provoked.
And
eventually it passes
Which,
for everybody’s sake,
Is
a welcome calm, but repercussions
Linger
in its wake.
Sometimes things work out exactly
How
you’d hoped they would,
With
plans and people meeting up
In
just the way they should.
However,
that is not the norm
And,
though you may prepare,
A
perfect execution of
A
plan is pretty rare.
Though
rolling with the punches is
Not
easy, on the whole,
It
might be best when circumstances
Slip
from your control.
We saw some hieroglyphics
And
some beaded Native art,
Some
instruments of music
With
their coolness off the chart;
The
Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit
And
some armor from the past,
All
admired and enjoyed although
We
zipped through kind of fast.
The
only place we lingered was
Where
varied rooms were staged
Showing
how the wealthy lived,
Our
grandson totally engaged.
The
lighting dim, the papered walls,
The
opulent décor
Elicited
reactions
We
had not quite seen before.
Such
lavish furnishings, unlike
The
homes that I have known
Make
me wonder how he’ll decorate
A
home when it’s his own.
