Searching

I made it all the way

To the factory

Without finding

Papa or Leybl

Or their bodies.

Polish soldiers

Stood outside the factory doors

And I was too terrified

Of the soldiers,

Of the truth,

To ask

If Papa and Leybl

Were still inside,

Still alive.

I headed home,

Knowing Mama

Would be angry,

Would die of fright,

Wondering

What had happened to

Papa and Leybl.

Disappointed

I had no answers for her.

Voices,

Warm and welcoming,

Met me at the door.

Arms,

Strong and supporting,

Surrounded me.

Cheeks,

Scratchy yet soft,

Pressed against my face.

Papa and Leybl!

Hid in the factory’s basement,

Like Mama, Mushke, and I

Hid in the apartment basement.

I’d passed them

In the dark,

In the horror,

Never knowing

They searched for us,

Like I searched for them.