a friend with whom I'd
graduated from college eight years before (she was now married and
had a 15-month-old son)
first full quinquennium now is complete:
five years you and Bruce have been wed.
snowy Wisconsin, the cards (those repeat
congratulatories) are read.
wood so says the tradition should be
your fifth-anniversary gift.
what should I give you? A beanpole? One ski?
An orange crate? Youd surely be miffed.
if I chose furniture, still Id have failed.
A sideboard? A desk from the Coast?
hat-rack? Theyd all be too big to be mailed
to Meadowood Drive parcel post.
Fortune is smiling! Today I have found
a figure whose face is of wood,
face that is clearly a portrait of me! Twill astound,
twill thrill you, a likeness so good.
figure has more than merely its face
to be recommended and praised:
cables, it moves! Doesnt stay in one place!
Yes, Brian will be quite amazed.
this humble gift, this self-portrait, I say
to you and your husband and son:
all of you smile at least five times a day,
laugh twice, and in living have fun.
toy looked something like this. My friend replied:
you for the poem and for the marionette (which isnt a very
good likeness it doesnt even have glasses!) Brian
loves the marionette, and tries to make it walk, saying Walk,
walk. Walk, walk. Unfortunately, he is too short
(30½ inches tall), at least this month.