The Marten

that
you hear at
work (or play) each night in the roof space
will have left not a trace,
not even an echo, by dawn.

These
too uneas-
y wanderings above your head, your bed,
the open book, half-read,
the clock and the glass, half-full, will

seem
but a dream
when the sun turns the curtains from black
to blue. You pull them back
to let the night out, like a cat.

Think
of a mink
escaped from a farm – an abattoir –
installed in her boudoir,
your cavernous-but-cosy – your

use-
less – roof space.
Forgetful of sentence and reprieve
(who on earth would believe
her tale?) she dashes about the

gym-
nasium
above your head, your bad dreams in time
with her running and climb-
ing; a ball will find the back of a

net:
decimate
thus a spider's home, all his worldly
possessions! Wearily
he will straight away set to weav-

ing
a gleaming
new – stronger – intruder-proof web (that
our invisible squatt-
er may or may not rush into).

What-
ever's that
lofty dungeon to offer? What grows
– what could? – in those shadows?
The small, frightened creature that you

sight
one dark night –
eyes the only lights in the garden,
strange, intense (the marten
that you hear at work (or play)) – knows.

The Snowman for Kamil and Julia

1
SURNAME - SNOWMAN
GIVEN NAME - A
DATE OF BIRTH - WINTER
SEX - N/A

2
PLACE OF BIRTH - WINTER
CHILDREN - NONE
ISSUED IN - WARSAW
DATE OF ISSUE - 2001

3
COLOUR OF EYES - CHESTNUT BROWN
DISTINGUISHING MARKS - NOSE ASKEW
NEXT OF KIN - WIND AND RAIN
DATE OF EXPIRY - 2002