Midnight Crossing Poem by michael Smajda

Across the sea was Italy
With waves of freedom in between
No one dare cross for fear be caught,
Be shot, never again be seen
By a ruthless Tito regime
Guarding Croatian shores at best
Deterring all who seek refuge
On soil that lay west.
Although a crime, one still gave thought
How he could safely sail away,
Secretly and with family
On a decided time and day.
He was Rovinj's only tailor,
The son of a tailor, as well,
Mending Tito's army garments,
Receiving no payment prey tell.
Tired of government oppression
Forced upon every common man,
He quietly spent his evenings
On a viable escape plan.
He needed, first, a small row boat
Which he got from a trusting friend
Who desired, too, leave his homeland
And chance the same risk to the end.
Conspirators would bring him clothes
Knowing they'd never be mended.
His family's own would be exchanged,
Be hid near where boat was tended.
Upon one night quite dark to see
And friendly waves on each boat's side,
He, his wife, friend and children, three
All began their perilous ride.
Their compass was but rower's back
Facing land light left at shore.
They rowed non-stop till blistered hands
And arms grew tired to row much more.
All the while alarmed as can be,
They'd be seized by a Tito crew,
Returned back to Croatian shores,
Face execution if be due.
Yet, as harrowing was their journey
Few, if any, would contemplate,
They enriched themselves with freedom
Once they entered Italy's gate.