Memories **

She'd always come in silently, to see if I was still asleep, twas quite essential at this age to take a nap each afternoon. I'd hear her when she touched my cot, and saw her face, framed by dark hair and bringing, just for me, her little one, a smile that brightened all, and warmed all those who'd witness it, but there was me and it was all reserved and never shared. She'd take me on her shoulder then to see if burping could be coaxed, then we would snuggle in her chair and watch for aircraft from the enemy. The worst was bombs of phosphorus, folks jumped into the river, well alight, Aides scrubbed with laundry brushes, coarse the skin to save the hapless devils there. We'd be prepared to hide of course, a secret passage had been cut into the study wall, it led into a space behind the upper loo, pitch dark it stayed and I held on to Mother's hair, it was so thick and gave me comfort in my darkest times, outside, the soldiers banged their riflebutts against the kitchen door, Dowoy, Dowoy, I do remember Gospodeen, and Twoye mutch, they raided all and stole, as victors filled with glee... We huddled in the dark and talked inside our heads 'we are not home, please go away, we have no girls, no vodka and we left some time ago, so go away.' Bombs kept on falling, there were Yankees in the sky and mother prayed though she had traded the good book for a small loaf of winter rye and one whole fatty eel. They never found us in our hiding place, next door the family was taken out of town, not to return, and I, I was prepared to flash my own and special smile to match my Mother's soonest as they lights came on. She mentioned, later, years had fluttered past, how I was so enthused about her hair, today, of course, this hair has lost a bit of luster and some body and its colour is a wavy, peppered glacier's gray. I think I'll douse the lights and ring her quickly on the phone.