Zack's Space

HOLD MY HAND

My little one, my dove,

Precious one,

How lovely you look,

How lovely you are,

Dressed in your finery.

Come, my little one,

Come, hold my hand

And walk with me.

Your hand is so small,

And smooth and warm.

Mine? So callused and rough,

And trembling.

Why does my hand tremble so?

‘Tis nothing, sweet child,

But today the sun

Brings me no warmth.

But soon we shall be fine.

Who are these men,

These fierce-looking men,

In their black uniforms?

Ah, my dove, they are here

To protect us.

From whom, you ask?

Why, my sweet, from the people

Crowding about us,

Laughing at us.

We’re safe from them,

As are the others with us.

Do you not see your friends,

And their families?

No, hold tight to my hand

As we climb into the box car

Already filled to overflowing.

Why are we packed, you ask,

Like sardines, my little one?

Well. To save us the fare,

But, hold my hand,

Though now it is

Clammy with sweat.

See, the trip is over,

My sweet, my little girl.

Hold tight as we jump

To the platform.

Why are the soldiers

Pointing their guns at us, you ask?

No, my child, they are just

Pointing the way to the showers.

We re so hot and perspired,

And we need to freshen up.

So, little one, come with me,

And hold my hand.

I will keep you safe

From any harm.

Nothing shall hurt you.

Just hold my hand.

See, the line moves quickly,

And we’re in the shower room.

I know there are no towels,

My little dove,

But the room is warm and

You will dry quickly.

But why no water, you ask?

Ah, ‘tis a new type of shower,

And soon you will sleep.

So, hold my hand,

Tightly now, and

Breathe deeply.

That’s a good girl.

Sleep, sleep, sleep,

My precious, my litt…………..

Richard Grayson                 July 11, 2001