Three Poems

Go like a ship, return like happiness
for Catalin

Second day of frost makes the dahlias around the lake look old
The willow, a widow, bows over the bank with loosened hair.
Geese – off-course planes – land on water sending spouts over the cattails
The sun rises from behind the clump of leafless birches, white:
Any other day, I would just say it feels a slightly melancholy day.

I don't remember how Ulysses took his leave but you chose
A soldier's lot and now you have your news – this will be your journey.
I remember being young and hearing about you lying crosswise
In our mother's womb, then horizontally, then vertically, moving
Until the birth, when you came to this world with broken shoulders
And a bluish face; it took years to make you strong and you were
The light to which our faces turned morning after morning.

Ulysses, they say, had seen fantastic worlds and he returned,
Now you need to go away, so you could have your journey home.
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