A psychologist by trade,
She brought order from chaos,
Splicing together the broken threads
Of fragile minds:
Listening for the right tone,
The right inflection, the right notes
To harmonize the deepest
Fears and desires of her clients.
But, in her own disordered brain,
She heard the voices of HER people,
Day and night,
Crying out from the death camps,
Screaming from the gas chambers,
While men in black jackboots
Goose-stepped through the square,
Claiming victory over her crumbling world.
When the Alzheimer’s bore deep into her brain,
Like a hungry insect,
And consumed the last of those dreadful sounds,
She embraced the silence, like a long-lost Lover,
And slept peacefully.
Dawn Pisturino is a retired nurse in Arizona whose publishing credits include poems, limericks, short stories, and articles. Her poetry has appeared in several anthologies, most recently in "Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women" and the "2023 Arizona Literary Magazine." A monthly contributor for Gobblers & Masticadores, she is a member of Mystery Writers of America and the Arizona Authors Association.