Flash Flood Alert

On our phones, a piercing screech
Is sending an alert,
To keep us all protected
So nobody will get hurt.

A flash flood may be coming!
In addition to some showers,
Streams may overflow their banks
Within the coming hours.

The thunder rumbles, skies grow dark
Yet calm’s the way I seem
For my apartment’s nowhere near
What I would call a stream.

The river’s just a block away
But mostly it refrains
From spilling over onto land
Despite some heavy rains.

For some that jarring warning
Is as welcome as can be
Though I think it’s pretty obvious
That group includes – not me!

Greeting Cards

I love receiving greeting cards
On birthdays or occasions
And sending them, as well,
Which kind of evens the equations.

Yet lately they are hard to find –
So many stores are closing
And people turn to e-cards,
Or that’s what I am supposing.

Some local drug stores carry cards,
Selections not extensive,
But though they’re nice, the problem is
That they are quite expensive.

Such prices just discourage those
Who’d like to send a greeting
And losing customers, to me,
Seems very self-defeating.

Waiting for the Ferry

The water laps the ferry dock;
I keep my eyes upon the clock
For soon my chariot will arrive.
(We city people hate to drive!)

The schedule is accurate
And rarely strays the slightest bit.
I know that at 3:46
It will be here, so time for tix.

I open up the trusty app;
A few clicks later, it's a wrap.
I'll flash my phone and strut onboard;
A peaceful ride is my reward.

Pain Scale

They ask about your pain within
A scale of 1 – 10.
The answer, though depends upon
Exactly where and when.

For pain can vary, changing by
The hour or the minute
And sometimes you can’t pinpoint pain
Despite the fact you’re in it.

Unless you suffer, why on earth
Would you consent to go
To a doctor’s office, where you hope
That someone in the know…

Could help you feel much better
And what difference should it make
Where your pain is on the scale?
Find a cure, for goodness’ sake!

The Shed

We purchased a shed for our yard.
To fill it was not very hard -
The sleds and the bikes
And the things no one likes
With a flimsy old lock standing guard.

To mice, it's a winter retreat 
And last summer, we thought it was neat
When a fox made her bed 
For her kits there instead
Of the groundhog, who left in defeat.

All the shed holds is useless old junk
And this fact gets my spouse in a funk
But it gives us a peek
Of some wildlife unique
And at least we've encountered no skunk!

Bird Party

The birds are having a party;
They're gathering out back,
Although balloons and streamers
They most certainly do lack.

They line up on the patio
Then swoop from tree to tree,
Alighting on the branches
Where the leaves won't let me see.

There's such freedom in their flying
They look joyous in the air 
But for all I know, it's just a way
To get from here to there.

Marilyn's Birthday

It’s Marilyn’s birthday; in previous years
We’d go out to dinner, at least.
We’d each have an entrée and share a dessert,
The closest, for us, to a feast.

We didn’t trade gifts, but on “big ones” we would –
Maybe bracelets, ceramics, or bags
And we’d talk of the turns of our different lives –
The triumphs and also the snags.

But Marilyn’s gone now; just four years ago
I saw her on that hospital bed,
With her arms wrapped around a stuffed monkey, a pose
She would never have made if not dead.

I miss my dear friend and am sad she’s not here.
For her birthday, I’ll offer a toast
To the memory of all the time that we had
Before, sadly, she gave up the ghost.