(for my grandmother)

After the ferris wheel my ten-year-old
grandmother was smothered by an ether
napkin—a long-haired lady with scarlet lips
and nails. The Gestapo took her away.

She awoke, locked in by four bleached walls.
No way out except a window. She jumped
and ran—breathless snow drifted
mountains slammed by. She called

her father. The colour of his face—
winter sky.