In childhood memory
I remember only three,
Daddy, Grandmother and me.

Someone once asked
With an unsmiling face
"Don't you wash your eyes,
They are so dark"?
I washed them with many tears
Not understanding teasing.

I knew he was my daddy.
He had two moles by his collar bone
Exactly like mine
For a long time
It was the only way I knew.

The church was tall
We walked a long way
To kneel on its stone floor
I thought it was beautiful
When I was small.

A fox terrier and a Czech doll sat
On the shelf of the otherwise
Empty tall black bookcase
Toys left behind when we fled.

I wonder, did anyone ever find
My little teeth hidden
In the shiny holes of the otherwise
Empty tall black bookcase?

A radiator warmed
The marble window ledge,
Where I sat watching children skate
I was sick,
They closed the curtains.

So I would not hurt my eyes
Grandmother read to me
The German Brothers Grimm
Grim tales written for children.

I would cry from joint pain
A legacy of Terezin
Grandmother rubbed them with lard
Wrapping them in flannel
The village way.

We had to go away,
Grandmother had to stay,
Alone.

I am not afraid
Of the dark in the night
I fear darkness
During the day.

January 5, 2000