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In memory of my cousin and best friend Sonja Haber

I sit at my piano and play

Mi Mi Sol Mi Mi Do.

Re Re Sol Sol Mi Do....

Sonya's own moving song

which she composed

when she was thirteen,

in Antwerp, our hometown.

I, a gray-haired woman,

play it

and Sonja appears.

She takes me by the hand

and out we go for a walk

and into the park.

We row in its lake,

our hand fluttering in the wind

and singing her song.

In a sidewalk cafe

we order lemonade.

We sip it,

chatting about our teachers,

the one she loves, the one I love.

We dance together

our first waltzes. Together we swim and dive

and bike and hike,

the wind caressing us,

the flower emitting their most fragrant aroma

when we pass.

The all know us,

the inseparable,

always together,


when only one of us

goes up the chimney at Auschwitz

Mi Mi Sol Mi Mi Do,

Re Re Sol Mi Mi Do...

I sit at my piano and play



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