East Hampton

Aging, All Poems, East Hampton, Trips and Places

Mr. Toad or Superman

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I felt like Mr. Toad, flying down the highway,

said Bob just before bed.

I can’t believe I did it again.

He shook his head in amazement.

For the ride from home to East Hampton is a marathon.

New Jersey turnpike to Verrazano Bridge.

Skirting around Brooklyn through Queens.

Thoroughfares to Long Island.

Then roads through Hampton after Hampton.

West, South, Bridge, East.

Reverse on the way home.

A total obstacle course.

Heavy traffic around New York.

In towns along Long Island.

No thirst quenchers for Bob.

Because decent toilets are rare.

Except for the stretch on the New Jersey turnpike.

I did it again, he said, in disbelief.

Though worth it to visit the clan.

How many more years do I have?

To don a cape, be superman?

Accelerate, then brake.

Hope to find a spot to rest.

Even with a GPS.

The trip, trying, quite a test.

I suppose I’ll continue to do it

till I can’t go anymore.

When the body tells me it’s over,

there’s no way to restore.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 19, 2023

All Poems, Beaches, East Hampton, Trips and Places

Montauk

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Montauk paused the rhythm of the day.

Between two school drop offs.

And two school pick-ups.

A contrast to forested, budding East Hampton.

For Montauk snuggles up to the water.

Sandy shores.

Marina.

Lighthouse Park.

All at the edge of Long Island.

Where, if you peer across the bay, you can see the North Fork.

Parallel to the South Fork, the point from which you’re squinting.

Watch seagulls taking naps with pigeons.

People frequenting every kind of eatery imaginable.

So, find your way to Montauk.

From the Hamptons, a short hop.

Go in May, avoid a mob.

A beach for canopy swap.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 18, 2023

 

 

All Poems, East Hampton, Environment/Mother Earth, Family, For Children, Grandchildren, Trips and Places

If We Don’t Take Care of Mother Earth

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If we don’t take care of Mother Earth, we’ll all die,

said Katusha as we drove to school.

It’s the first time I thought of that, she said.

Realizing the import, a frown on her face.

Then she went on to tell her story.

How she picked up litter with her schoolmates.

Sculpting it into a turtle.

Which was put on display.

At the Parrish Art Museum.

In Water Mill, Long Island.

Sending a message to the community.

To which Eliana added, she, too, picked up litter.

With her kindergarten class.

On the beach.

Both girls fretted, worried

about the health of the planet.

What would happen

if debris overran it?

Two wise young sisters

had recommendations

to keep the earth alive

for all divine creations.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 17, 2023

 

 

 

All Poems, East Hampton, Family, Grandchildren, Trips and Places

Sweet Dream

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A sweet dream nudged me from sleep.

To see dawn at the window.

Remind me, disappointment replaced.

By the rush of undoing what was done.

When the jaunt to East Hampton seemed not to be.

But, learning Ari recovered, heading out after all.

To see early spring budding anew.

Where it’s ten degrees cooler.

To see finishing touches on construction.

At the new white cedar sided home.

On Head of Duck Pond Road.

To see the biggest surprises of all.

Maia toddling about.

Jabbering in Russian, English.

Eliana with an empty space.

Where her front tooth stood.

Katusha, in love with trilling birds, bellowing frogs.

Three girls on Long Island.

Each unfurling apace.

Sowing wonder, amazement,

freshness, novelty, grace.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 17, 2023

 

 

 

 

Adult Children, All Poems, East Hampton

Zev Changed His Schedule

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To meet us in East Hampton.

In time for Ari’s birthday.

In time for Shabbat.

In time for our visit.

Once more, Zev changed his schedule.

In time to push Maia.

In her baby carriage.

Up and down the street.

While her sisters biked.

In time to help his father.

Solve internet woes.

For us, a happy surprise.

For him, merely change in plan.

Whatever you want to call it,

he’s a most coveted man.

 

Lynn Benjamin

October 31, 2022

 

All Poems, East Hampton, Grandchildren, Grandparents

Invitation to Play

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I’ve had invitations to parties.

Meetings.

Luncheons.

Zoom calls.

But the best invitation of all is to play.

With two granddaughters.

Who fold me into their world.

A family of dolls at a table.

Or, a game in the forest.

Fending off bears and wolves.

Building a house.

Preparing soup with pine needles, berries.

Or, a hike on a trail.

Where we march to the mantra: Girl Power!

Or, a walk alongside as they race by on bikes.

The best invitation

is definitely to play.

Simple adventures.

But exquisitely gourmet.

 

Lynn Benjamin

October 30, 2022

 

 

 

All Poems, East Hampton, For Children, Grandchildren

Crickets and Millipedes

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All day we heard crickets.

Humming in the forests of East Hampton.

Millipedes, however, were silent.

Creeping in the forests of East Hampton.

But, in an instant, Eliana noticed a millipede.

Picked it up.

Let it inch all over her hand.

Tickle it as it crawled through her fingers.

When, to her delight, Katusha caught a cricket.

In the act of flight.

Cupped it in her hand.

The girls thought the creatures should meet.

So, each took a turn holding both.

Presenting the millipede to the cricket.

Suggesting that they play.

Which they did for a few sweet moments.

Then each went on its way.

 

Lynn Benjamin

October 30, 2022

 

 

All Poems, Birthdays, East Hampton, Holidays

October Ride to East Hampton

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The October ride to East Hampton is long.

Always long from where we live.

But worth it, always worth it.

To smell the pine needles.

Fallen dried leaves.

Hear songbirds welcome dawn.

Most of all, to celebrate a birthday on Shabbat.

With young voices.

Pealing bells.

Filling the air with music.

Melody and beat.

Telling stories, doing tricks.

Climbing on papa with two bare feet.

Who in the whole wide world

could have a better Halloween treat?

 

Lynn Benjamin

October 29, 2022

All Poems, Children, East Hampton, Natural Beauty, Trees, Trips and Places

Walking

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There is something cleansing, even spiritual,
about walking while the earth is waking.
Moving to the sounds of birdsongs, caws, tapping
of woodpeckers.
Inhaling blossoming perfumes, lilacs, redbuds, cherries.
Watching newness in awesome variety as the sun
illuminates a corner here,
a crevice there.
If everyone made time for silent reverence,
to hear and see and smell,
I wonder if we would hold our children more gently.
Teach them to be kind to trees.

Lynn Benjamin
May 9, 2021
East Hampton

All Poems, Children, East Hampton, Family, Grandchildren, Seasons, Stories, Time, Trips and Places

In My Travels

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In my travels, Time often teases in a playful way.
Flying to Japan, a day completely disappeared!
To California, I retrieved three hours!
To Argentina, a miracle turned winter to full summer!
And to a lesser, but no less sweet degree,
a car ride to East Hampton re-gifted me two weeks of Spring!
For although already bloomed and faded in my town,
the Hamptons were abundant with daffodils, tulips, cherry blossoms,
forsythias, mock oranges, and shades of green.
The florescence captured anew was pure magic.
Just like two little girls molding Time
like playdough to suit their fancy.
Conjuring rainbow ice cream cakes and unicorn candles.
So we could sing, have a party.
Even include grandparents who could not be with them.
Some might call their act:
The power of play.
Perhaps that tag has merit.
But, to me, the scene resembled a looking glass.
Bending light to rainbow, refracting Time.
A marvel enabling me to be adult and child at once.
Boundaries dissolved, wrinkles smoothed.
Several moments of priceless joy, excitement.
Intoxicating bliss somewhere without clock or calendar.
A different kind of time travel.
One, I’d recommend over a Rick Steves destination,
or even a space capsule to the moon.

Lynn Benjamin
May 8, 2021
East Hampton