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Holding My Husband


by Beate Sigriddaughter


                November 9, 2016


Holding my husband tight
this morning, giving
and receiving reassurance,
we do not speak. We know
who we are. We know what
we feel. In silence I wonder
is this how my parents felt
in 1933, when Hitler had
bullied his way into power
with a promise, among others,
to make Germany great again?
Did they hold each other
like this, full of terrible unease
trying for comfort? We are
only two small people doing
our best. We cannot stem this
tide. Everything will be all right.
It wasn't. Though much,
much later it was again.
I love you, world, even
as you are spinning out
of control. I pray
that our best will be good.

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