Horns
When the boy on my
cruise from New Orleans
asked, Where are your horns?
I was completely floored.
Where are my horns, I thought,
clasping my hand over
the Star of David necklace
around my neck.
I went back to my room,
made a cup of tea, and
said goodnight to Grandma.
Gute Nacht, my grandmother
said to me, before tucking
me into bed.
Grandma, I said, has anyone
ever asked you if you had horns?
Oh yes, said Grandma,
back in Austria anyone wearing
a star was called a beast. But you
know what?
I looked cautiously
at my grandma
and raised my eyebrows.
The ones with the thickest horns
are the ones that are most
likely to survive.
I glanced up at my
grandmother,
a 92-year old Holocaust
survivor, and suddenly my
eyes became heavy
and closed.
That night I dreamt about
winning. About standing on
a first place podium
holding a golden trophy,
with passion in my eyes.