Lady Mary

Breakfast's bright and early 
over at the Northside Home
but Mary's always up and dressed
face washed and hair fresh combed

She'll turn the potted violets
that line her window sill
and neatly sip the water
when the nurse brings in her pills

They call her Lady Mary
'cause she's so neatly groomed
and walks so slow and stately
each time she leaves her room

She bides her time till lunch is free
then to the park she flees
the bench she seeks rests like a throne
beneath the live oak trees

There Mary feeds the pigeons
and other birds that come her way
she hoards her crusts and crackers
so they'll last out the day

The sounds take her back to Warsaw
and her grandpere's rooftop coops
before the days of Kristallnacht
and invading German troops

Her family fled the city
to her Aunt Naomi's farm
still all too soon each ended with
a tattoo on their arm

They took away her rosary
the day they shaved her head
so Mary used a knotted string
to say her prayers instead

She was the only catholic in
the women's sleeping hall
but when she said her nightly prayers
they didn't mind at all

When Sobibor's escape was staged
Mary made it to the trees
runnng through the dappled shade
she'd never felt so free

She ran till her legs were leaden
and her feet began to bleed
then she wormed into a thicket
and lay flat in the weeds

She could hear the searchers nearing
and was sure that she would die
but at least she'd have one last look
at green leaves and free blue sky

Now the search was all around her
she could hear the shots and screams
was it only chance that saved her
or the miracle it seemed

From the forest all around her
came a flock of woodland doves
soon her spot was double hidden
as the birds all perched above

Seeing birds all sitting calmly
searchers passed her thicket by
thinking no one could be hidden there
or the birds would surely fly

She's never told the story
never set her deeds to words
but every sunny afternoon
Lady Mary feeds the birds

c. 8/24/09, B. Riley