Public Republic

Sheri L. Wright

Photo: “Ladder” by Sheri L. Wright

In 1942, NAZI propaganda spun from a reel of film shot in the Warsaw Ghetto, using the least emaciated prisoners as props to divert rumors of The Final Solution.

They pose us together,
I in my linens and plump cheeks
with her, whoever she is –
wisps of hair barely combed for the camera,
hair that would not lie flat
un-groomed for so long
like a horse left to run feral;

unbathed – I cannot help to turn my nose.
My reaction got away from me
like a dog off it’s leash.
For a moment, I think they will shoot me,
but no one says a word,
so I smile.

I do not think she knows why she is here
the way her eyes ramble the room,
like the bird my brother clipped
with a rock one spring day.
We watched it flutter out of its nest,
across the yard through rows of squash vine
squawking for its mother.

But she remains silent,
understands the black of their uniforms,
lighting struck across their collars
like stones hurled at innocence.

Sheri L. Wright
114 South Bayly Av. #1
Louisville, KY 40206
kasperfriend@yahoo.com
899-3737