Thursday, January 11, 2018


Home is for the aged forlorn
a mystical memory
of waking to mother
in the childhood kitchen
making breakfast

Waking in girlish happiness
anticipating a happy day
walking with friends to school
ice skating in the park
enjoying a hot chocolate

If only we could
fetch that girlhood scene
to the present moment
to salve the endless ache
for the mystical home

          (Nov. 11, 2018)

Saturday, January 6, 2018


In tortured times
think happy thoughts
the easiest sources
lie in your idyllic
childhood memories

Mine: going with my father
all alone to Coney Island
the pleasure of my mother
welcoming me home with love
at the end of the school day

Picnicking  with  my sister Gloria
Bicycling with my brother Bill
Lunching with my sister Miriam
Campbell’s tomato soup
and oysterettes

          (Jan. 6, 2018: During World War II, my mother was still at work for a company catering to defense plants when I came home from school for lunch and at the end of the school day. She would leave lunch, soup and a sandwich, on the kitchen table for my sister, Miriam, and me. I was 11 when the war ended, her job along with it. I can still clearly recall the pleasure of finding her home once again.)