Inadequate Inoculations


On Tuesday, over butternut squash

soup and a half of a steak tartine

(the special at Café 37),

My high school friend lamented her recent bout with shingles.

“It could have been worse! At least I had the shot!” she whined.

I thought of all the shots she had had….

the teenage pregnancy,   the philandering husband,

he husband’s dialysis, the divorce,

the second marriage, the divorce. Lots of shots.


And my own inoculations….different, but definitely  as difficult.

Certainly they should have inoculated me!

Certainly after all those traumas and “learning experiences”

I should have been well- inoculated against the pain and itch of

futile passion.

But sometimes,  I guess, the shots just don’t do it!






Restoration (10/28/16)


Yesterday my little boy and I had lunch at a restored railroad station in an oh-so-pretty little town in New Jersey….

Picturesque it was.

Cocooned in the gingerbread fantasy…. merlot-colored walls warmed our hearts and curlicued windows threw the October sun in our faces…..

We laughed and interrupted each other as we always have….never at a loss for words or stories or GREAT INSIGHTS.

Maybe a hundred years ago lovers sat here, hating to part…or waited impatiently for the next train to arrive.

They couldn’t have been happier or sadder than me with my

Nearly thirty- three year old boy who (with his own lover by his side) is journeying to stations I will never visit.

(But, I know the hot chocolate will taste as good!)

PT in 2016


We didn’t need the MRI to tell us…..

The electric pain shouted down our resistance.

Yet, we wondered ….

Would those thera-bands and hot packs….

And the oh-so-painfully ecstatic manipulations of the clairvoyant PT

Really relieve

The soreness of our hearts

The stiffness of our souls?

After all,

It took six decades

To design the vehicle that we took for granted…

And now, after all that,

Is it just a matter of herniated and bulging discs?

I want my money back!

I need philosophical…not physical therapy!!





Aging Poetically



I don’t think of myself as a poet.

But, sometimes a casual observation, or a mood, or a particular event wakes me from the


of the day and I feel a bit more aware of the life I am living.

I am finding that I look forward to the moment that will be the “keeper”.

The moment I can later capture in a few words.

Scribbling, rambling, sketching with words, I explore the thought or the image— much as my friends who are artists do with “quick sketches” during the course of a walk.

I would love to have you join me in writing a poem a day…or a week.…

Life lived consciously feels so much livelier! Please do share your “keepers”!