I come from the North, across the Atlantic.
From a country so gray with fear,
                              so populated with love.
The South has welcomed me like her own.
Maybe because I, too, hold rays of sunshine
diving into the ocean of poetry, so warm
as if there is no death,
          only dolphins and whales.

Ⓒ Lena Zycinsky, from unpublished


In a nature-friendly sackcloth bag
you brought me a strange souvenir:
two Philips Energy A Class bulbs
with warm white 40 watt light
for our bed stand lamps.

I looked at you rather bemused
"Hello? How is this a gift?"
You replied in your matter-of-factish tone,
"They’ll produce 25 years of light and that
is a commitment to you."

Ⓒ Lena Zycinsky, from
Notes in Travels (Boslen, Moscow, 2014)


When I drove you away from the downtown lights
to wander along a suburban galaxy
watching silk-satin clouds
as they proudly
unveiled the moon’s curves of the moon,

You did not realize that I wanted instead
                               to show you off to the stars.

Ⓒ Lena Zycinsky, from Notes in Travels (Boslen, Moscow, 2014)