A bag full of wishes, quite scattered

and flattened, like pennies all strewn on

the railway tracks, angry as copper

flint while a wet glove sweeps off my hat.

Soaked raincoat soon flung off to join it —

the memories shaken out stoutly —

rid of scent, excess worry and hung

on both hooks above both bunks, ready.

So only the long green scarf stays — swathed,

slumped, trembling… moist shoulders against a

chill midnight… suddenly sodden blithe

spirits appearing at windowpanes.

St. Petersburg, Russia

May 17, 2000