HISTORY, Part II

And these are my names:
I was named after my paternal grandmother’s mother
Esther and my grandfather whom I never saw
would have called me Estherel Schwestrel and my mother
called me with rebukes and groans
when I was bad, returning dirty and tattered.
My first-grade teacher stressed the last syllable of my name
which sounded awful to me and awesome and important but
before Purim I would brim with pride because the queen was
called Esther and I found out that Esther was also the star of Ishtar
an ancient goddess of love and fertility
and I was destined for great things and
the ability to turn a frog into a butterfly or a cricket.
My loved ones called me Esther’ke, like a sheep
and sometimes Esther’ka, like the concubine of Casimir the Great
but my flamenco shoes considered me Estherika
and stamped around me decisively and with delight.
The greengrocers and vendors turned me into Etti,
Etti, why not take a kilo or two of squash, pumpkin,
make a compote for yourself, Esti.
And when I feel bad and cry, I mock myself
with my real name of long ago

Please, you who called me Esther,
pity me, come back

HISTORY, Part II