Silver Strands
Silver Strands
Platinum it was, not a hint of gold
Silver tiara was grandma’s crown
Brushed over her head, to a bun rolled
She always refused to wear it down
It shone in the sun silvery bright
Her bun boasted a badge of honor
Holocaust survivor fled at night
Now in the free world as a senior
Nazi tattoos, numbers on her arm
Smallpox scars were evident too
But they never filled her with alarm
A lucky lass, she had made it through
A dark-haired teen had boarded a boat
Marrying a man she met at sea
Just their clothes, nothing else to tote
Seeking the Statue of Liberty
Each silver strand was born of worry
For family in Poland left behind
Her escape had been made in a hurry
In a brave quest for freedom to find
*Written for Susan and Andrea’s “Silver Strands” contest and inspired by my maternal grandmother’s escape to freedom
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
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