The sun was born, so it shall die.

The snow is just another veil for the dirt. I know that darkness will find me. I am softer than the rest. I am giving up. My only purpose of being here is to stay a bit longer.

My Mother's Friend

my mother
had a schoolfriend
she shared the war with

my mother
looked after her friend
in the ghetto

she laid her out
as though she was dead
and the Gestapo overlooked her

in Auschwitz
she fed her friend snow
when she was burning with typhoid

and when
the Nazis
emptied Stuthof

they threw
the inmates
onto boats in the Baltic

and tried
to drown
as many as they could

my mother
and her friend
survived

in
Bayreuth
after the war

my mother’s friend
patted my cheeks
and curled my curls

and hurled herself
from the top
of a bank.


by Lily Brett