Under Nature’s Heel As a schoolkid, I scoffed When I read of saffron monks Sweeping the ground before them, Lest they step unawares on ants. Earthworms basking In the morning sun, On the warm cemented path That splits the cold,
The Celestial Dandelion
The Celestial Dandelion You, delicate orb Of distilled beauty, That is gone by dusk, Or a careless step. Wordless you hold In your dainty globe, More wisdom than A million tomes. You beam at those Three score and tens Who
April Showers
April Showers Shoots sprout through, lancing The winter-hardened earth, Sodden by spring rains. Suppressed remorses breach The stout retaining walls, And rivulets seep down. April was Eliot’s cruellest month – Now I know why. © Abie Alexander Greenbelt, MD
My Window on the World
My Window on the World As I part the curtains, There you are, Amongst the treetops, Golden, warm, and bright. Butterflies flit about, As bird calls And insect chirps Dim the fluorescent hum. This window Is my morning news –
An Apple and A Samsung
It was with some hesitation that I packed an apple and a banana (there was not going to be any in-flight service because of the pandemic) in my laptop bag before heading for the airport at the crack of dawn.
Kafka and Hawthorne in the Time of Covid – A Personal Experience
One of the most poignant scenes in literature is in Kafka’s Metamorphosis, where Gregor Samsa’s parents, who are heartbroken and embarrassed by his physical transformation into a disgusting insect, take the painful decision of confining him to his room in
Aram-W6JY – the Armenian-American Radio Pioneer
As many of you know from my recent social media posts, I am striving to resurrect the marvelous hobby of amateur radio that I regretfully put into cold storage sixteen years ago due to other demands on my time, mostly
The Killjoy
This virus can kill– Not just at arm’s length, But in the next town too, And even across the seas. The days, weeks, and months Roll on relentless, crushing Hopes of a new rendezvous, And last year’s memories. Or, stifled
Colors
For Carolyne Virginia Ashton Garden roses, Peruvian lilies, And hydrangeas– All meld together, In one mosaic. Wonder what they Call themselves, And each other– Red, pink, blue, And yellow? After the black, white, Yellow, brown Of humanity, Who see the
On Wearing Masks
There was a time, long gone, When persona meant Both a person and a mask, And lineage was traced Through death masks Kept in family shrines. There have always been masks. Egyptian mummy masks; African ritual masks; The voodoo masks