All Poems, Argentine Family, Emotions, Family, New York, Pleasure, Thank-You, Trips and Places

Gifts

Why do gifts, especially when unexpected, affect me?

Sending frissons of pleasure up and down my spine?

What are these sensations?

Desire to smile, cry, hug all at once.

Flashes of emotional fireworks seeking escape.

To display connection.

Glee, gratitude for thoughtfulness.

Balm of being remembered.

Cared about.

In this ever-increasing indifferent world.

Who anticipated fancy nuts from Luxembourg?

Chocolate ground by you in Ecuador?

To await me in New York?

Tokens telling me you know who I am.

What would awaken my senses, curiosity.

Transmit delight.

So much so, I leave them undisturbed.

To continue the bliss.

Before I dip in, sample.

Is it possible I feel this intensity more with age?

Having lost parents whose bond was unshakable?

For me, I think that true.

The sense of feeling special is a prize,

whether in the form of gift or time spent.

Like spotting fields of sunflowers,

billowy, buttery, thick, abundant.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 11, 2024

 

All Poems, Argentine Family, Art/Arts, Family, Farewell, Museums, New York, Trips and Places

I Never Thought

Ilanit said, I never thought I could get around the world so quickly.

So inexpensively.

As we said our goodbyes.

At the staircase leading to the exit.

For she needed to go.

To finish errands on a rainy morning.

Before an afternoon flight home.

To Montevideo via Brazil.

Having just breezed through cultures and countries.

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Taking us to Africa, Asia, Europe.

Expeditions to Egypt, China, Japan.

To Spain for El Greco, Goya, Velázquez.

The Netherlands for Van Gogh, Rembrandt.

A whirlwind tour to be sure.

Ila in from Uruguay.

The Met kept us warm and dry.

Tender farewell fluttered by.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 10, 2024

 

All Poems, Argentine Family, Art/Arts, Family, Farewell, Museums, New York, Trips and Places

Ilanit’s Final Day

It was Ilanit’s final day in Manhattan.

By unfortunate chance, damp and rainy.

The last leg of a month-long trip.

Buenos Aires, Ecuador, Pittsburgh, New York.

She, ticking off places she wanted to see.

Chelsea Market, Central Park, Broadway.

For the next afternoon, the airport.

To return to Montevideo.

To boyfriend, job, apartment.

I felt fortunate to be on her list.

For her choice to join us.

The very day of her flight.

She could have chosen to swap us out

for a sight she didn’t know.

Instead, she opted to follow us

with enthusiasm, gusto.

Off to meet Elias,

accompany him to the Met.

Sashay through halls, art on walls,

escaping the showery wet.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 10, 2024

All Poems, Argentine Family, Family, Food, Humor, New York, Pleasure, Trips and Places

Where There’s a Will There’s a Way

Where there’s a will there’s a way, said Uri.

Watching Bob polish off a cannoli or two.

Despite his recent tooth extraction.

Having cautioned he required non-chewy food.

For any meal.

Preferably rice or pasta.

Which Uri obliged in his restaurant picks.

Taking him to Xi’an for lunch.

Authentic Chinese pulled noodles, tofu.

Fish Cheeks for dinner.

Verifiable Thai with rice, soft fish.

But for dessert, Bob pushed for Ferrara’s.

Where he pined for cannolis.

Chocolate covered and plain.

Buying one of each.

Dissolving them on his tongue with fruity tea.

Uri eyed him smiling,

admiring his will

to enjoy Italian goodies

despite the dentist’s drill!

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 9, 2024

 

All Poems, Argentine Family, Family, Food, New York, Pleasure, Trips and Places

How Did I Forget?

How did I forget?

How much fun Manhattan could be?

Wandering the streets of Soho?

Broom, Lafayette, Canal?

Hopping the C train to the theater district?

Marching to Columbus Circle?

Plunging into Central Park?

Paddling through waves of humanity?

So rhythmic, I float through them.

Without effort.

Horses and buggies, bicyclists, joggers.

Family caravans.

Meeting up with friends, lovers.

Like I, with cousins.

Exiting the park to jump on a D.

Down to Chinatown for Thai dinner.

Then strolling from bakery to bakery.

Picking up sweet treats.

Lafayette Café, Levain, Ferrara’s.

Bundling booty to take back for tea

in the lounge on the 21st floor.

With views of Manhattan at dusk

on the patio right through the door.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 8, 2024

 

All Poems, Argentine Family, Easter, Family, For Children, Natural Beauty, New York, Seasons, Trips and Places

Central Park

Central Park erupted into Spring.

Magnolias, cherries, forsythias.

Daffodils, hyacinths, tulips.

Elaborate floral horse drawn carriages.

Rock sitters, picnickers, trash pickers.

Bicyclists, skaters, rowers, walkers.

Lovers, friends, parents, children.

Chatting in every language imaginable.

Singing sparrows, pigeons.

Waiting to pounce on horses’ feeding buckets.

As soon as they lifted heads to chew.

Frolicking squirrels, even sheep.

When two cousins entered the scene.

On a path from Columbus Circle.

Siblings from Buenos Aires.

On holiday in Manhattan.

Having traveled for a month,

each regaled us with a story.

Meeting us in Central Park

to savor its Easter glory.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 7, 2024

Aging, Animals/Insects, New York, Trips and Places

Early Morning Escape

 

Early morning escape.

From the twenty-first floor.

Edison Hotel, West 47th Street.

Manhattan.

Down the sidewalk.

Toward the Lena Horne Theater.

Home to the musical Six.

When I glanced up.

Seeing a snowy white seagull.

Light gray topcoat.

Bright yellow bill.

A trace of red underneath.

Treating himself to a tin of food.

Opposite the theater.

I watched.

He caught me gazing.

Flitted across the sidewalk to a roof.

Cocking his head.

Side to side.

As if waiting for me to go.

So he could resume his meal.

It was hard for me to part.

Wondering what he was doing in midtown.

Scrounging for leftovers?

Seeking an urban mate?

Watching passersby?

Hopscotching between rivers?

Why would this avian spirit

live among Manhattanites?

Does he enjoy hordes of people?

The endless flashing lights?

Perhaps the food’s abundant.

Nests easy on roof tops high.

Maybe insect envy.

A wannabe butterfly!

The reason is a mystery

I’ll never fully understand.

For I’d pass up the city

for salt water, solitude, and sand.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 30, 2023

All Poems, New York, Trips and Places

Try to Sleep

 

Try to sleep in a hotel near Times Square.

With electric bill boards flashing.

Voices wafting up from the street.

Sirens blasting every few minutes.

Images of the circus down below.

Floating through your mind.

Costumed apes and characters.

Hawkers selling bus tours.

Half clothed pedestrians, private parts swinging.

Young women filming themselves dancing barefoot.

Try to sleep in the tiny room.

On the 21st floor.

That barely holds a chair.

Separates the bed and bathroom.

With a translucent slot door.

That doesn’t close.

Try to sleep.

Tune out lights.

Noises.

Pictures in the mind.

But, maybe there’s no need to try.

After traipsing through midtown,

exhaustion overcomes you.

Simply strikes and shuts you down.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 29, 2023

 

 

 

All Poems, Family, Grandchildren, Grandparents, Humor, Museums, New York, Trips and Places

Manhattan Sunday

 

Manhattan has always been a frequent destination.

Close, exciting, lots to do.

Before children, the old fourteenth street.

Full, then, of Spanish language bookstores.

Restaurants with Iberian specialties.

Later on, after grandbabies, a place to go to help.

Wheel strollers, grab a meal during naps.

Today, the youngest, almost ten.

His sister, almost fourteen.

The mission, to keep them company.

While mother performed in a concert.

Was it possible to do a real Manhattan Sunday?

Or, at least, the image in my head?

Brunch at two.

At a typical eatery, the Lex.

On Lexington Avenue, between 90th and 91st.

Eggs Benedict and salad.

Amazing! exclaimed Elias.

A stroll through the Cooper Hewitt.

Museum of design.

Exploring power dynamics, how to pursue peace.

Botanical lessons, art nouveau of Hector Guimard.

Immersion room’s digital images.

Finally, a meander through Central Park.

Among dog walkers, joggers.

Athletes practicing baseball, soccer.

Picnickers and bikers.

Let’s enjoy the park, said Elias, licking ice cream.

Eyeing activities around us.

Seating himself on a bench.

We grandparents following suit.

People watching, chatting.

Then onward to meet our daughter.

After a classic Manhattan day.

Perhaps the only possible tweak.

Musical matinée on Broadway!

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 2, 2023

 

 

All Poems, Gardens, New York

New York High Line

 

The New York High Line boasts a history.

Delivering food to Lower Manhattan.

In the mid-1800’s along the street.

Dangerous situation for pedestrians.

So, rebuilt, elevated between 1924-1933.

But, by the 1960’s, train use ebbed.

Due to trucking.

Leaving the elevated vulnerable to demolition.

Wild greenery reclaimed it.

The neighborhood saw its promise.

Began building the park.

Offering views of the city.

Diverse plants.

Artwork and performances.

A magnet for walkers like me.

In any season.

A place to stretch and move.

After visiting a museum.

Following the path.

Beginning to end.

Eyeing city scapes.

Curves of buildings.

Whimsical windows.

Passersby with cameras.

Snapping photos of street scenes.

Winter foliage.

Artistic displays.

Inhaling excitement.

High above the traffic.

Noting rails that once transported train cars.

Sculptures like rotating Windy.

Patches of snowbells.

The first lavender crocuses.

The High Line’s exhilarating.

It took work to revive.

From a crumbling train route

to a park that’s alive.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 16, 2023