My Brother Describes His Death
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.
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.