Mirror

My parents were not in a camp
but running and hiding
shattered their nerves.

It caught up with me
when I became a mother.

I walked for miles
carrying my baby
in case I had to flee.

I breast fed
till I was sucked dry
in case there was a famine.

I knitted a jumper
from scraps of rough wool
in case
there was a long harsh winter.

My girls look Aryan
their ethnic traces 
buried deep within
for safety’s sake.

Eva Collins