They came while he was visiting a friend,
who had a hiding place.
A false bottom, in a bathroom vanity.
Nine in a 6 x 6 hole.
Three couldn’t bear it after three days, shot too.
So he stayed another six days.
There was something terrifying about his story.
It wasn’t in a book.
No photos of his family.
When we were in India,
(his son must’ve explained the Svastika)
he’d say, ’Another beautiful day!‘
And rub his hands in anticipation.
Then go for a walk,
without a hat.