for my grandmother
After the ferris wheel my ten-year-old
grandmother was smothered by an ether
napkin—a long-haired lady with scarlet lips
and nails. The Gestapo took her away.
She awoke, locked in by four bleached walls.
No way out except a window. She jumped
and ran—breathless snow drifted
mountains slammed by. She called
her father. The colour of his face—
Return to Index of Poetry
by Erika Kulnys