Zlatka and I
Passed by a group
Of Black Triangles,
Aryan girls
Who thought they were better.
Grabbing Zlatka’s arm
I tried to walk faster.
I wanted
To run.
But Zlatka said,
Do not show your fear.
And walked by as if
On a stroll home from shul
On Friday night.
First came the word,
Juden!
Only a word,
Jews!
But on their lips,
A curse,
An insult,
A threat.
Then more words
Spat out
In a dialect
Not to understand.
I tried to walk faster.
I wanted
To run.
But Zlatka said,
They are nobodies.
And walked by as if
We were the only two people
On the earth.
Then came the stones,
Hard,
Sharp,
Painful
Against my arm.
Zlatka’s head.
A trickle of blood
Down her temple.
She did not flinch.
I tried to walk faster.
I wanted
To run.
But Zlatka said,
And walked by as if
She were not afraid
Of death.
Back in the Koje
I cleaned Zlatka’s wound
As best I could
With the hem of my striped uniform
And no water or soap.
Bronia, Guta, and Giza
Gathered round.
What happened?
Are you hurt?
Who did this?
I answered,
Nobodies.
Zlatka smiled.