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Blog archive

October 2024

ARBORIST WALK: NOT FOR TREE HUGGERS ONLY!
10/29/2024

Bill Wishner: Visual Hunter
10/29/2024

Can a Village Group Fix Our Healthcare System?
10/29/2024

Community Board Directors Strengthen Village Board
10/29/2024

Connecting with Village Connections: The A, B, C, & D’s of Medicare @ 65+
10/29/2024

Grief is a Journey: Two Paths Taken
10/29/2024

Message from the President
10/29/2024

Promoting Informed & Involved Voters
10/29/2024

What Will Be Your Legacy?
10/29/2024

1619, Approaching the Election...
10/27/2024

Beyond and Within the Village - A Star is Born
10/17/2024

Happiness by Priscilla Leonard
10/11/2024

Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden
10/11/2024

Unpainted Door by Louise Gluck
10/11/2024

In the Evening by Billy Collins
10/10/2024

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
10/10/2024

Betty Kilby, A Family History
10/01/2024

Betty Kilby, A Family History
10/01/2024

Betty Kilby, A Family History
10/01/2024

September 2024

August 2024

1619 Wide Ranging Interests
08/19/2024

1619 Wide Ranging Interests
08/19/2024

First Anniversary
08/19/2024

Alexandra Leaving by Leonard Cohen
08/16/2024

Muse des Beaux Arts by W. H. Auden
08/16/2024

The God Abandons Antony by Constantinos P. Cavafy
08/16/2024

Ch – Ch – Ch –Changes
08/15/2024

Cultural Activities Team offers an ‘embarrassment of riches’
08/15/2024

Engaging in Pasadena Village
08/15/2024

Future Housing Options
08/15/2024

Message from the President
08/15/2024

There Are Authors Among Us
08/15/2024

Villagers Welcome New Members at the Tournament Park Picnic
08/15/2024

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas
08/14/2024

A narrow Fellow in the Grass by Emily Dickinson
08/13/2024

Haikus
08/13/2024

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
08/13/2024

Poem 20 by Pablo Neruda
08/13/2024

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
08/13/2024

Trees by Joyce Kilmer
08/13/2024

July 2024

June 2024

May 2024

Emergency Preparedness: Are You Ready?
05/28/2024

Farewell from the 2023/24 Social Work Interns
05/28/2024

Gina on the Horizon
05/28/2024

Mark Your Calendars for the Healthy Aging Research California Virtual Summit
05/28/2024

Meet Our New Development Associate
05/28/2024

Putting the Strategic Plan into Practice
05/28/2024

Washington Park: Pasadena’s Rediscovered Gem
05/28/2024

Introducing Civil Rights Discussions
05/22/2024

Rumor of Humor #2416
05/14/2024

Rumor of Humor #2417
05/14/2024

Rumor of Humor #2417
05/14/2024

Rumor of Humor #2418
05/14/2024

Springtime Visitors
05/07/2024

Freezing for a Good Cause – Credit, That Is
05/02/2024

No Discussion Meeting on May 3rd
05/02/2024

An Apparently Normal Person Author Presentation and Book-signing
05/01/2024

Flintridge Center: Pasadena Village’s Neighbor That Changes Lives
05/01/2024

Pasadena Celebrates Older Americans Month 2024
05/01/2024

The 2024 Pasadena Village Volunteer Appreciation Lunch
05/01/2024

Woman of the Year: Katy Townsend
05/01/2024

April 2024

March 2024

February 2024

January 2024

A Covid Poem

By Susan Kujawa
Posted: 12/10/2020
Tags:

From Sue Kajawa

I recently attended, via Zoom, a reunion of Durfee Foundation sabbatical recipients. I was one of the oldest people there. It was heartwarming to be among a group of passionate, dedicated young activists and to share with them our hopes and dreams for the future. At the close of the event, this lovely poem was read. It is written by Frances Phillips, a poet and program officer at the Haas Fund in SF.

For people my age, the second verse was not anything that sounded the least bit appealing to me! But it made me think about younger people and all of the parts of their lives that they are missing during this pandemic time. Maybe for older adults like me, the slowing down and drawing in are more natural reactions than for younger people who are meant to be out and about. At any rate, I wanted to share this poem that is so suited to our times.

The author explains that “ramai” is an Indonesian word that means busy, crowded, noisy -- in a
good way - a Ramai: of people (many) (a crowd).

One day, we will be ramai again, we
will elbow our way onto the 30 Stockton
snake through the rain-soaked crowd under awnings
excuse our way up to the coffee bar
tighten the squeeze of the ladies’ room line
‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ through the theater seats
moments after the lights have gone down.

One day we will be ramai again, we’ll
hoist the crowd surfer over our heads
and slip on the beer-slick floor, elbowing the
girl who knows the lyrics, we’ll
dodge bicycles, running down the block
with lucky numbers on a slip of paper
we’ll crush five of us across the back seat
designed for three. If necessary,
someone can sit on the parking brake.

One day we will be ramai again, we’ll
inhale something other than our own breath,
we’ll wait on line at the most popular restaurant
use the bathroom at the movie theater
pile on and crawl over,
bump shoulders, hug and shake;
we’ll be as slobbery as basset hounds
joyful as retrievers.

Maybe we can even be those small toads
covering the asphalt on a summer night--
body-to-body, voice-to-voice.
Did I say we’ll sing? Yes, we’ll be singing.


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