Pat D’Amico


Ban de Soleil

Was sunscreen on our radar? No.
But baby oil would freely flow.
We frazzled, fried, almost flambéed,
Till some of us required first aid.
We’re wiser now, though somewhat spotted,
And with a tan, we’re not besotted.

Whirlpools of Change

Do you recall the whirlpool
That sat beside the chair—
The one you’d hit
When told to spit?
The thing’s no longer there.

Instead a mighty vacuum
Kicks in sans invitation:
The tubes and knobs
That do the jobs
Exceed expectoration.

Something’s Afoot

A tiny tear
At the tip of my toe
Portends the end
Of my sock, I know.
The kids of today
Will call this a yarn
But there was a time
When we used to darn.

Pat D’Amico is a former school teacher who lives in Kirkland, Washington. Her verses have appeared in The Wall Street Journal, The Saturday Evening Post, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Light, and Lighten Up Online. She contributes regularly to Northwest Prime Time, a newspaper for readers over fifty in the Seattle, Tacoma area.