Taking up Planting

For my son and his kids, it’s tomatoes,
The cherry-type, planted from seed,
While my friend on the upper west side filled some pots
With more herbs than she ever will need.

A dear friend who resides near the ocean
Has her terrace with plantings a‘brim
And another has switched from her flowers
To some veggies she’ll soon have to trim.

My kid sister’s restarted her garden;
Iguanas, though, sneak in to steal
And my sister-in-law, once there’s no chance of frost,
By her plot in the yard will soon kneel.

Many lately have taken up planting
Since we’re home now with nothing but time
But I’m planted here in my apartment,
Where I tend to and nurture my rhyme.

Birdsong

Conversing with people in houses
I often pick up in the air
The chirping of birds,
Those avian words
That make me feel like I’m right there.

My early-morn walks by the river
Provide me, as well, with the tweets
Of the sparrow and jays,
With their citified ways,
In the branches of trees on the streets.

But the biggest surprise in this lockdown
Is how quiet my city’s become
So from on the 9^th floor
I can now hear much more
Of their song, without traffic’s harsh hum.

Dr. Fauci

Dr. Fauci,* never grouchy,
Seems to tell it like it is.
When we need a Covid answer,
The advice I’d want is his.

When our POTUS** gives us notice,
It is simply not worth heeding
For it’s either flat-out wrong
Or likely otherwise misleading.

So much news from different views
Is surely bound to be confusing.
When folks follow made-up “facts,”
The truth is all of us are losing.

*director of the National Institute of
Allergies and Infectious Diseases
**President of the United States

A-Wop-Bop-a-Loo-Bop

If this title tells you nothing
Then I guess I can assume
That you’ve never heard those lyrics
Followed by “A-lop-bam-boom.”

Little Richard’s the composer;
“Tutti Fruitti” is the song,
One of many, like “Good Golly…”
We’ve been singing all along.

To describe him as flamboyant
Barely covers what he was
But if you’ve seen him perform, you know
He justified the buzz.

Now he’s dead at 87,
One more rock star bites the dust.
More than words, a fitting tribute
Is to watch him sing – you must!

Mothers' Day on Lockdown

Got a Kindle for a gift,
A present sweet and caring
Especially since lack of books
Had got me quite despairing.

I’ve never wanted one before,
Preferring paper pages
But access has been limited
As virus warfare wages.

Though stuck at home, I, too, received
Some calls and home-made greetings
On cards created by the grands
Displayed at FaceTime meetings.

To celebrate on lockdown
May seem slightly incomplete
Yet to feel that love connection
Is a most delightful treat!

The Polar Vortex

I check the weather on my phone
Before I head outside.
My jacket choices such a glance
Does helpfully provide.

For weeks, my trusty fleece it’s been,
With turtleneck below,
A sweatshirt sometimes added
If the wind’s supposed to blow.

Today, though, temps were hovering
At thirty-eight degrees
So if I dressed like always
I believed I might just freeze.

Some Arctic air has come to town,
Unusual for May.
The Polar Vortex, as it’s called,
Makes flowers droop and sway.

My woolen cape came out to help
Me on my walking task.
I wonder if it recognized me
From behind my mask.

Smashing a Coronata

To help with frustrations that build
Some creative types made and then filled
A piñata to hang
Then to smash with a bang
But these folks were amazingly skilled.

Their piñatas, from which candy spilled,
Had a shape which we all would want stilled.
With a Covid design,
Looking far from benign,
Coronatas are how they are billed.

Wouldn’t any of us be just thrilled
If our wishes could be so fulfilled?
With a few mighty whacks
We could stem the attacks
And all cheer as the virus got killed!