Jean Noel Ruhland 

Amerikaner 

A cake-like cookie commonly displayed 
in German bakeries for after school, 
the Black and White sat staring, dismayed 
about all it has seen. My mom’s cold pool 
 
of blood reflected on where it came from 
before the bombs chased her and the cookie 
out from their home. On top of the lonesome 
sweet treat, a line to divide what is me. 
 
Some say the German in me wins, and I 
Say the soft American lies within. 
But cookies know the answer, their sublime. 
Just take a bite and wash away the sin.  

The blood is mopped, and Germany is clean. 
America gives homes to cookie glee. 

Back In The Day, Jane Ellen Zimmermann