Ambush Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Ambush
He backed in such a funny way
I froze due to the fear.
There was a wiggle and a sway
the whiff of Polish beer.
He said, a voice of no regret
that life begets its prize,
he held my hand, I'm glad we met
and looked into my eyes.
I was, as you might know my friend,
a cousin to his mother,
and in the end, the very end
I'd love him as my brother!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/28/2026 8:05:13 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
