He lifted his hand, it shook.
He leaned towards speech, halting.
A stroke confined his feet
to shuffled, prayerful, praises.
The day pushed dusk through blinds.
“How you buh, beautiful?” (a rasp).
“You take your meds?” the nurse said.
“How you… to… today?”, finger pointing
(reminded of it's hook).
She smiled and smoothed his bed
"You flirtin’ again? You bad man.”
Once he'd made a vow, an oath
in Auschwitz-Birkenau:
Forced to pick gold from charred teeth,
he pledged to sidestep death… to live!
And walk - in love -
to the Sabbath.
Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
He lifted his hand, it shook.
He leaned towards speech, halting.
A stroke confined his feet
to shuffled, prayerful, praises.
The day pushed dusk through blinds.
“How you buh, beautiful?” (a rasp).
“You take your meds?” the nurse said.
“How you… to… today?”, finger pointing
(reminded of it's hook).
She smiled and smoothed his bed
"You flirtin’ again? You bad man.”
Once he'd made a vow, an oath
in Auschwitz-Birkenau:
Forced to pick gold from charred teeth,
he pledged to sidestep death… to live!
And walk - in love -
to the Sabbath.
Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
180828F
Request permission to use this poem