I had the dream again.
I’m running
child clutched to my chest
holding in arms and legs
to avoid the bullets
that may come.
Hoping this body is thick enough
to protect him
one last time.

Footfalls of the soldiers
so much faster than mine
are close now.
I see the fence.
Run faster
kicking dust and bone fragments
at the soldiers
now just out of reach.

They reach
my shoulder
wrench me back sideways.
But the fence is right there!
I throw him
with the summoned strength
of my lost generation.
Hoist his bottom, just over
as the soldiers bear down.
His terrified, screaming face
thankfully on the other side
is the last thing I see

I called my grandmother this weekend.
She sounded tired, cried recently.
She and Zeide were watching
a documentary on Auschwitz.
She tells me again
that she would give everything she owns
for just one picture
of her mother.

I wonder—
Whose dream am I having?