“In August of 1942” by Janine Oberrotman

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Janine Oberrotman
Janine Oberrotman

“In August of 1942” by Janine Oberrotman

The skies are blue

the trees are green

At 16

The apples fill the orchard

the garden is peaceful and still

A taste for love hovers over my head

and yet

Under that apple tree

I sit

in dread of death…

What will it be?

a shot, a blow?

Will it be quick or slow?

Will they torture and taunt me?

Will I be brave?

Oh, yes!

Nature smiles at me

her languid, indifferent smile,

in the fragrant air

the breeze is gentle and sweet and yet

my anger bitterly screams

how hard it is to die

how hard it is to die

not knowing what love means

not knowing what life is

at 16

And you

my classmates, my comrades, my confidants…

my future lovers,

What did you do?

Where did you go?

What did you think?

When death trapped you

at 16

… and who will mourn you?…

by Janine Oberrotman

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