a poetry e-zine










Ron Yazinski



For an old woman she was surprisingly agile.

As soon as our wiffle ball rolled into her irises,

She dashed down her steps and grabbed it

And then ran to add it to her collection.

We all knew how useless it would be to knock on her door

And say we’re sorry and beg for our ball back.

From behind her door she would just curse

In the few Polish words we knew.

So we just accepted that our game was over.

From the other side of the street,

Because she was old and had nothing better to do,

Another widow was watching us.

She called us over to her porch

And with a yellowed smile, gave us each a wrapped Tastykake.

For the moment we forgot about our game,

And the crazy old woman with her stash of balls.

We sat down on her steps to eat,

Only to find as we unwrapped them

That she had licked the icing off the tops

Before repackaging the cakes.

She stood behind us grinning,

Waiting to either be thanked or to laugh at us,

And us looking at each other, not knowing how to handle,

Either the meanness of women,

Or their type of kindness.




Ron Yazinski is a retired English teacher who, with his wife Jeanne, divides time between Northeastern Pennsylvania and Winter Garden, Florida. His poems have appeared in The Journal of the Mulberry Poets and Writers Association, Poets Online, Strong Verse, The Bijou Review, Recursive Angel, The Edison Literary Review, Lunarosity, Penwood, Jones Av., Centrifugal Eye, amphibi.us, Nefarious Ballerina, The Talon, Amarillo Bay, The Write Room, Pulsar, Sunken Lines, Wilderness House, Blast Furnace, The Houston Literary Review, Menagerie, H.O.D., Forge, Miller’s Pond, Muscle and Blood, Indigo Rising, Sixers Review and Crash. He is also the author of the chapbook HOUSES: AN AMERICAN ZODIAC, which was published by The Poetry Library and a book of poems SOUTH OF SCRANTON.

Copyright 2012  Chantarelle's Notebook