The Present Moment

It seems like yesterday I was sucking on a warm bottle of milk
as I watched moving shadows on my crib in South Ozone.

Where did it go?

Then I was running for my life after school
from Nazi Bundists at P.S. 153 who wanted to know
if I was a Jew. I always said—No, I’m a Greek.

Where did it go?

The next thing I knew I was driving a 1937 Dodge
in a snowstorm on the way to Iowa City. With no defroster,
I applied glycerin on my windshield so I could watch me do 360’s
on icy roads for well over 1000 miles.

Where did it go?

Afterwards I disappeared in combat boots
running from the Chinese at the Yalu River.
The steel plate in my head kept me alive.

Where did it go?

I found true love with you and your mystic charm
and soft white cheeks at Bnei Brakin 1960,
and lived happily ever after ever since.

Where did it go?

My life almost came to an end in the town of Sturgeon
on Saint Mary’s Bay when my boat capsized with a ton
of mackerel on the deck.

Where did it go?

***

Flying Home

Clutching our tickets and passports
we pile into an Uber to the airport.
In the back of the plane we see our
Leonia neighbor, Stan Crain, who
was rumored to have passed away
after losing his wife. We wave to him,
but he doesn’t wave back. We assume
he must be stoned on the non-addictive
pain killer he developed while working
at the Einstein Medical School.
The Captain announces: United is offering
complimentary first class tickets to everyone.
We will be flying higher than ever before.
Champagne is on the house, so drink up,
and enjoy the flight.

***

Milton P. Ehrlich Ph.D. is an 89-year-old psychologist and a veteran of the Korean War. He has published poems in Poetry Review, The Antigonish Review, London Grip, Arc Poetry Magazine, Descant Literary Magazine, Wisconsin Review, Red Wheelbarrow, and the New York Times.