Poem: Deceiving the gods

The old Jews rarely admitted good fortune.
And if they did, they’d quickly add kinehora —
let the evil eye not hear. What dummkopf
would think the spirits were on our side?
But even in a tropical paradise
laden with sugar cane and coconut,
something like the shtetl’s wariness exists.
In Hawaii, I’m told, a fisherman
never spoke directly, lest the gods
would arrive at the sea before him.
Instead he’d look to the sky,
the fast-moving clouds, and say,
I wonder if leaves are falling in the uplands!
Let us go and gather leaves.
So, my love, today let’s not talk at all.
Let’s be like those couples
eating silently in restaurants,
barely a word the entire meal.
We pitied them, but now I see
they were always so much smarter than we were.

From “Like a Beggar,” © 2014 by Ellen Bass. Used with permission of The Permissions Co., Inc. on behalf of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.

Ellen Bass has published several books of poetry, including “The Human Line,” “Like a Beggar” and “Mules of Love.” She teaches in the MFA program in poetry at Pacific University.