NOT ABOUT AESRED

An advantage of writing myself notes
Is the ease with which I forgive pomposity,

Bad temper, self-pity and lack of grace
"Poor fellow!" I find myself thinking,
" He's not half so foolish as he sounds;
How very fond of him I am! If only
He could just stop talking to himself!"

WINTERSFROG

Below freezing

Basho's frog,

Rejecting advice,

Sits poised

On the well's rim.

Oh frog, trust me!

Love breaks hearts

But ice breaks bones.

BY THE BUG'S BLUE WATER

The words I don't know
Are unspoken in an accent
That marks me as a native
Lost,stolen or strayed
From Kamianka Strumilowa
A small town, itself now hiding
Under a new name
On the banks of the River Bug.

STILL MORE ON THE SUBJECT OF YETIS

Yetis were created at 4:37 p.m. on the sixth day
When, if there'd been any about, a blue thread
Couldn't have been told from a green one.
(As a tailor's grandson I have a hereditary interest
In threads and spools, bobbins, spindles, needles,
And angels dancing on the heads of pins.)
If -- pray note I am too polite to say "when" --
The human race doesn't work out
Yetis are meant to come down from the mountains
And, apparently, set up small businesses
Or find work as butlers, buskers and busboys.
The Book of Yeti's text may be corrupt, though;
And this not be the plan at all.

NOTES FOR A PROFILE

Baba Yaga cannot remember
Not being Baba Yaga. Surely
She wasn't born old. Her cat
Says the two of them once
Made a clockwork lizard which sang
And did simple arithmetic. For a time,
She was available to answer prayers
Or to thwart them. Her voice
Is surprisingly soft. The souls sleeping
In the red box in her cupboard
Do not look unhappy.

YETIS

That yetis invented chess, if they did,

Cuts no ice with me. My brother likes chess

As did my Grandfather Joe but I was never

Much one for patient strategy. Besides,

Orang utans, when not murdering Marie Roget,

Brought backgammon into the world and tarsiers

Invented language in order to make puns

And where has it gotten them? Granted,

There is a yeti in my house -- quite likely the one

Who stayed with the great Wasliya Szymborska.

Granted, too, that he’s brought a chessboard

And holds a white pawn in one of his hands …

Very well – I chose, of course, the left hand

How my grandfather would have laughed

As if he always wins when his ghosts

Demands he meet them in Union Square

And play until the day breaks.

CIRCUMSTANCE

Snow banishes the world beyond the front windows
The black and white cat stares at me from the sofa
Trying to decide what sort of luck he should bring
When he walks across my path. The yeti
From Wasliya Szymborska's poem is half asleep
In the old pink chair which indignantly recalls
When it lived in Iowa, where there are no yetis.