“Take off your clothes!”
It was strange,
but we did,
the whole room full
of women and girls
watched by male guards.
“Take off all jewelry!”
Bracelet and necklace
were easy –
off they came.
But earrings were a problem.
I’d kept loosing them,
and still would.
They slipped
from my pierced ears
so mother had
them soldiered closed.
“Now,” she said,
“one pair
will last your life,”
and they almost did
except for now.
They must come off
but couldn’t.
The simple, efficient,
final solution?
Cut my ears!
Published in, No Known Address, by Poetica Publications, poems in response to the Holocaust.