The Delicatessen

| No Comments | No TrackBacks

We visited your shop every week

For cheeses and Polish sausage.

You made much of me

Gave me nibbles of cheese

Reached over the counter

To pat my head

And fill my hands with bonbons.


You were magical and foreign like me

The child with oval eyes

And Yiddish-speaking family.

Great-Granny came from Poland

We had a secret bond.


I didn't know of your sufferings

Under first the Nazis, then Stalin

Or why you and your compatriots

Lived in Nissen huts on Sandy Lane

Outside Melton Mowbray.


For a child in the aftermath of war

The Polish camp was a part of my world

Perplexing, but simply there.

I went with my mother to sing carols

And cheer up elderly residents.


Your life was marked by tragedy and displacement

Great-Granny's too.

So many stories untold

Deemed not fit for children's ears.

I hope my weekly visits

 Brought you joy.

Fragments are all I know of you

But I will not forget.









Enhanced by Zemanta

No TrackBacks

TrackBack URL:

Leave a comment


Powered by Movable Type 6.1.2

Follow alakanandama on Twitter

Twitter Updates

    Natural Health Blogs - BlogCatalog Blog Directory

    About this Entry

    This page contains a single entry by Alakananda Ma published on January 17, 2012 10:41 AM.

    Hava was the previous entry in this blog.

    The Photograph Album is the next entry in this blog.

    Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.