Sara’s Uniform

Majdanek, 1942

I wear these stripes—

streaks of tears through dirt,

a river’s channels dry

where water once pushed

aside what stood in its way.

I wear shoes of bricks

pulled from a mausoleum.

As I lift a foot, which

descendant reveals their face—

imprint in gravel—what

could have been? I wear a halo

of smoke—sack

floating, hot air

balloon—on the platform,

hoping to land somewhere

I will see familiar faces.

Liz Marlow is a Jewish American poet. Her debut chapbook, They Become Stars, was the winner of the 2019 Slapering Hol Press Chapbook Competition. Additionally, her work appears or is forthcoming in The Bitter Oleander, the minnesota review, Nimrod International Journal, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Her website is http://www.lizmarlow.com.