My Brother Describes His Death

My Brother Describes His Death

December 1942

by Pam Anderson

I tell you it was not so bad
Not as bad as you imagine.
I was in a stand of pines near
Terezin, crouched over
coals to roast the rabbit we snared

that morning.  It was bitter cold
but embers warmed my face. Then I
felt something like a bee stinging
the back of my neck. Just a sting.
Nothing more.

Not even shouts or barking sounds
of guns.  No.  None of that.  Only
a sting and slight tug. Like
pulling off a shoe.  Like diving
into water only

up.  I saw frayed thread tattered from
seams in my coat. A stain spreading
all the way down the back.  Then I
became blue.  As blue as the lake
behind our house.

Pam Anderson, who is a hair’s breadth away from finishing her master of fine arts in the NEOMFA program, is the daughter of a steelworker from Warren who also was a paratrooper during World War II. Her poems in this issue of Jenny were significantly influenced by her father’s stories.

Back to Issue 003: Jenny Magazine

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