This month’s poems trace the quiet turns of a life—when friendships shift, when years gather behind us, and when a single scent can open the door to childhood. Madlyn Epstein Steinhart writes with clear‑eyed compassion about loving someone you can no longer save. Carol Ostrow reflects on aging without regret, choosing joy as an act of agency. And Nicole Freezer Rubens returns to the sensory magic of memory, where a cigar’s smoke becomes a portal to lineage, love, and the women who cleaned up after the men. Together, these pieces remind us that time moves, people change, and memory is the thread that keeps us tethered.

I wish I could help

The person I have known is gone
The changes are acceptable for you
Not me
The negativity aside
The unhappiness and probable
Depression is hard to accept and deal with
Hope you get the help you need
My life from this point forward is as positive as possible
Been there and done with
Depression Conquered and moving on
I wish I could help
I care but not my place
You decide what to do
This happens with lifetime fruendships.
Very sad

~Madlyn Epstein Steinhart is the author of three poetry books, and her memoir, Found at Last

Where did the time go?

I truly feel that this life is magnificent,
But sometimes looking at where it all went,
I wonder how I got so fast to this age,
It’s hard to believe that I’m at this stage,

Spending time reflecting on my youth,
To tell you the truth,
It went by in a flash,
With each and every birthday bash,

Regret is never on my mind,
No matter how often times I rewind,
The wonderful memories of all I went through,
Nothing hidden, good and bad, all are true,

Never did I wish it were different at all,
Nor made myself guilty for a failure or fall,
As those failures made me smarter in time,
Nor blamed anyone else, just kept it all mine,

Life really is what we choose it to be,
We have that power of freedom you see,
Love, live and take care of this commodity,
Make a place to join this amazing community,

You are responsible for it all. Enjoy!

~ Carol Ostrow, author of Poems from My Pandemic Pen and Poetry in Motion with Much Emotion

Puff The Magic Dragons

I walked by someone
lighting up a fat cigar
and inhaled my childhood.
Both my father and grandfather
were smokers
of the distinct Cuban variety.
There were orderly satin finished Rosewood humidors
which I explored like they were
crowned jewelry boxes.
I opened the lid to release
the robust aromas,
and found carefully wrapped
metal tubed magic wands
waiting to be set ablaze.
I wore the paper labels
like precious platinum rings
on my fingers,
the same fingers that turned
the yellow lidded boxes
into decoupaged decorative objects
for Mother’s Day gifts.
What I do not remember
is any overflowing ashtrays
and surely,
my mother and grandmother
emptying them out,
cleaning up the messes of men.

~Nicole Freezer Rubens, author of “The Long Pause and the Short Breath”