My Treasure

My Treasure

Sweet sixteen.
Shoes. No. Not shoes.
They were perfection.
A gift, my final gift
From Granny dearest.
May she rest in peace.

I explained to the guard,
The one telling me to undress for my shower.
Shoes for a princess I was told.
My most treasured possession.
Enjoy the shower she grinned.
She understood the value
Of my sacred, special final remembrance.

She would take care; she promised:

She lied.

I remained at the camp.
Trapped.
I was still needed.

And then I saw them:
Granny’s last present.
Shoes that shone with love.
Discarded, damaged.

I had told her: my precious shoes.
They didn’t mean anything to her
Because I didn’t mean anything to her.

Suddenly my shoes were forgotten:

My sister.
What had they done with my sister?

Every inch of the camp. Frantic.

I remembered; they sent her the other way.
Maybe they do have compassion.
They must have spared her.
Of course they did, she is innocent.
How could they hurt her?

Someone shouted to a Dr Mengele;
I think. That’s not important.
Great pleasure in the voices,
A young gypsy girl had been caught.

Magda.
              Nobody said it.
                                          I knew.

I had to follow them.

I saw everything. Heard all.
Her writhing in pain:
Her scream, oh that scream.

Suddenly I knew why: I was lingering for her.

I watched as she bade her final goodbye.
I was there to catch her hand.
Together we drifted towards paradise.

Eternal, painless bliss.

Magda and I
Together forever.
And they can never hurt us.

This I will always treasure.