‘MOTHER’ by Martin Small

My mother had hands as soft as lamb’s skin
Her smile lit up the night as she tucked me in my warm bed
I slept with dreams of safety
My birthday was two days away

She cooked warm porridge each morning as I went to school
Her kiss always smelled of lavender
Sweet mama
My dear mama

The house was scoured for the Sabbath
And the table was set with sparkling dishes
Candles lit with prayers for life
And by firelight we ate
Thanking G-d for our sweet home

A knock at the door
My sisters and I are frightened
Mama whispers hush
Go to your rooms all will be fine
But I peeked through the crack in my door
And saw them grab my sweet mama
Pulled her arms so hard
Dear and kind
Soft as lamb's skin
They took her away

I followed treading carefully through the streets
Searching for my mama's face
Her scent of lavender on my face
I looked everywhere
Until I stopped
Dead still
People were being shot in the street
The Germans were laughing at their pigeons
These were people
I hid my head
The shotguns blasted away
And then I saw her

My mama
Begging for her children
To go home, a kiss goodbye
With a kick
He knocked her out
And shoveled the dirt
Over her living breathing soul
My mama
Beloved dear mama
Was buried alive

Never can I forget
Can I ever forgive?
The sight haunts me
As I scream out at night
For the woman who gently
Made me porridge
And tucked me in at night
Only to be covered with the earth
While her breath still came

Dear G-d who am I to blame
And they say it never happened
I am witness to this murder
Only now
I speak of it
But the terror
Haunts my every waking moment
Are we not human?