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spysgrandsonPoems
oy vey everyday, oy vey Granny couldn't get through an hour without a dour oy vey the woeful phrase I recall, though most of all, I still see her scrubbed raw, red paws, always clutching a tissue, to keep the ghastly germs at bay the ones she believed yet survived the camps no matter how much time and scalding baptismal water had flowed though far from the filth even farther from the ovens, safe she still said oy vey and held the tissue tight perhaps to keep out the night I never had to see oy vey, oy vey
0
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
oy vey, oy vey est mir
oy vey everyday, oy vey Granny couldn't get through an hour without a dour oy vey the woeful phrase I recall, though most of all, I still see her scrubbed raw, red paws, always clutching a tissue, to keep the ghastly germs at bay the ones she believed yet survived the camps no matter how much time and scalding baptismal water had flowed though far from the filth even farther from the ovens, safe she still said oy vey and held the tissue tight perhaps to keep out the night I never had to see oy vey, oy vey
The only thing I have ever written about my grandmother, Nessie W. 1904-1994. Her life deserves more than a few tepid lines. Perhaps more will come later.
#jew#woe#holocaust#yiddish
spysgrandson
Written by
spysgrandson
American
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
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