Recurrent Nightmare

      This poem is about a recurrent nightmare. I was born during World War 2, in Metz France, a few miles from Germany. During the War, many times, mostly at night,  we would hear the planes, the bombs would drop, the siren's would blear.  Everything packed on top of me in the stroller, we had to move fast to a safe place marked by a large white arrow painted on a wall pointing to a deep cellar.
       Our house was hit by a bomb,  with the Grace of God my family of 9 was in a safe place. Soldiers everywhere, even after the war ended, I remember the destruction. Possibility I was traumatized, once in a while I would have a nightmare similar to this poem.


I am looking for a place to hide
In the dark I'm not alone
Moving place to place
Not staying long

Who is it this time..
In shadows it's difficult see
A group in uniforms
Searching for me...

I keep moving...crawling
Very close to the ground
Holding my breath...
Making no sound

The search goes on
Afraid.... I'm not
They'll never find me
I'm a pro at hiding.