Sarah

I found her (no) she found me?

sitting on a suitcase.

Nine hundred (other) Marchers to meet

but our smiles matched.

We dozed on (dirty) Polish buses

sharing identical nightmares.

Indulged in (millions) of Sweetarts

Dextrose sticky sweet.

Sang off key (haunting) Hebrew melodies

and bad eighties dance tunes.

We whispered (wise-ass) comments

to survive ghastly camps.

Celebrated with (shaving) cream cans

and kisses on wet cement.

Danced, went (crazy) everywhere

including the Golan.

Pulled each other through (reality), life

when we made it back.