A FEW QUESTIONS ON HIS RETURN

The boat you launched
On the river of shadows
What became of it?

Your logic was so strong
Your wit so sharp
Why did they always fail you?

That mystery you found
When did you know
It was not yours to solve?

THREE GIFTS

THREE GIFTS FOR MY MOTHER

                           I

Sometime in its history the handle found that fate

Did not call it to remain part of a cup, so it left;

The rest of the cup I have now. On it, a pattern

Of brown and yellow small leaves chase one another.

                           II

If you look at it closely the onyx cube will show

A building shimmering on a green background

Why this was I didn’t know; the Aztec craftsman

Who surely carved it, must have had his reasons.

                           III

I have that too, and the Japanese demon queller.

It worked; no Japanese demons ever came by.

I wonder if they sometimes complain to my mother now

“We travelled so far to see you; why did you quell us?”