A New York Take

The Yankees lost - I’ll take my lumps.

Just make the next loss - please! - be Trump’s!

The Opening Bars

You know how certain songs can grab you

Once some notes are played?

Your ears perk up, you start to smile -

Attention must be paid!

When that occurs, your mind demands

You get to hear the rest

And if you can’t, you hum that tune

As if you are possessed.

This morning, someone passed me by

And from her ear buds came

Those seven most familiar notes

One musical can claim -

The opening of “Hamilton!”

And what a lovely perk

To listen to that upbeat score

While heading off to work.

The Two Halves of my Life

Today we took a lovely walk

On quiet country roads,

Where the autumn trees surround

The rural one of our abodes.

 

A hundred miles later,

We strode briskly, I should note,

From our main home, an apartment,

To the place where we could vote.

 

Now, to cast an early ballot,

We were luckily assigned

To a great New York museum,

So, of course, we then combined

 

An important civic duty

With a visit worth a view

Of a very cool exhibit,

Which we always love to do.

 

Our two living quarters equal,

Since they’re small, an average house,

Yet this singular arrangement

Works for me and for my spouse.

 

When the two halves come together,

In the ways I love the best,

I feel happy and contented,

Which, by now, you might have guessed.

A Helicopter Rescue

A helicopter rescue

Sounds traumatic, not just for 

The rescuee, since witnesses 

May suffer even more.

No matter what the circumstance,

There’s drama, which must be

Impossible to reconcile 

With one’s reality.

Yet once the patient’s lifted

And is safely in the air,

There’ll be comfort in receiving 

All the very best of care.

For companions left behind there is

So much to do until

They can make it to the hospital,

So many roles to fill.

Those with luck will make it home, although

That might just take a spell.

Still, while working on recovery,

There’s quite a tale to tell.

Record Collections

In a closet, stuffed in bags,

My records gather dust.

The player’s gone and speakers, too,

But keeping them’s a must.

My friend is giving hers away,

But on the other side,

My sister got my cousin’s batch,

Passed to her when he died.

I hear that vinyl’s coming back,

Yet those of us of age,

Remember our collections,

Adding groups we saw on stage.*

It was a thrill to hear a song

And buy a new LP,

Which way back then was how

We gained accessibility.

A needle on a record,

Careful, so it wouldn’t scratch,

Did provide a magic feeling that

No other modes can match.

*Often on The Ed Sullivan Show

Urban Scene

The toddler’s steps were tentative;

His daddy held his hands.

They slowly made some progress;

Every parent understands.

What caught my eye was on their heads -

Both sporting baseball caps,

The dad’s a well-worn Yankees one,

A favorite, perhaps.  

The toddler’s was, of course, brand new,

Though I have got to say 

It elicited a laugh because 

The logo said LA!

Precursor

My grandpa owned a laundry 

And when shirts were washed and pressed,

They were folded ‘round some cardboard

To stay neat ‘til you got dressed.

Our family shirts were treated

Just the same, except we learned

My grandpa paid a nickel

For each cardboard we returned.

This way, he used them once again

And so it seems that I’m

A descendant of a person who

Recycled ‘fore his time.