Kunigunta

This is a poem closer to my heart. My great grandmother's name was Kunigunta and her Jewish prayer book is now in my possession. Enjoy!

A small black book

The words are foreign

In language but not

In text and meaning

 

So many memories from

A war torn country

Of deceiving to survive

Watching such humbling horror

 

A small black book

So plain and ordinary

Brown pages that hold

A lifestyle lost now

 

So many memories from

A silently beautiful girl

Married blissful as ever

To a Nazi member

 

A small black book

Words strike a note

Singing song to God

Despite the horrible time

 

So many memories from

Hair dye and make-up

Changing who she was

To stay alive longer

 

A small black book

Holds the power of

An entire people’s faith

To be kept forever

 

So many memories from

The camps where she

Watched friend and neighbor

Meet an inhumane demise

 

A small black book

Was a release point

A way to forget

All that was happening

 

 

So many memories

Of family lost and

Husband’s divorcing over religion

Following one leader’s example

 

A small black book

Of psalm and praise

Of lament and thanks

Daily prayers for Jews

 

So many memories

Of reading by candlelight

The words blurring into

One mass of petitions

 

A small black book

Hebrew rough words strange

Read right to left

Stand time’s final test

 

So many memories

Of coming to America

Being free at least

Living to practice Judaism

 

A small black book

Now in my hands

The pages like feathers

My hands quiver slightly

 

So many memories from

My great-grandmother passed

Her words now silenced

Her torch still burning

 

A small black book

Held by a great-granddaughter

So many memories from

A great-grandmother never forgotten

 

Author's Note

Any Comments?

Reviews

[khalid]

yes there is a comment, that is a great piece!