POETRY

Nazi stories with Grandma

They called it a day camp for us kids,

the adults worked & some of them were laid off,

one day my parents went on vacation.

"I'm going to save you," Chekov told her

while he explained the escape,

"Lay on this cart, cover your body,"

she swallowed hard, dry saliva

under graveyard white cloth

hushed by Dr. Chekov, drowning in her breath,

Chekov who carried life-less to the sky in silent fire,

in his stained robe, clutched the icy, white cart through the camp grounds.

He was like a father to me,

she explained between tears that mazed

through crackling scars down the rivers

of her face,

past leather shoe factories and "showers"

the cart marched on in stride,

I became nervous, I thought I was going to die.

Halt, was ist das?

Her eyes became kifer,

all she saw were green silhouettes

hitting her like a bombshell

& she reminisced grassy Odessa picnics,

her mother alive in a traditional dance,

she exhaled inside

sie ist tot,

Dr. Chekov proclaimed,

I was dead, inside, they had taken my soul away.

the wheels grew louder, screaming over crushed bones

then she was alone,

among the still grass.