About/CV • Conferences • Talks • Essays • Photography • Poetry • Short Stories
Petermichael von Bawey is retired and lives in the Champagne on the border of the Burgundy, France. He taught and researched at colleges and universities in France, Germany, Switzerland, and the United States. His essays, poems and reviews have been published in a wide array of publications; and he attended international conferences, held public lectures, including speaking engagements and moderation at a range of institutions. He presented papers at many international conferences, including The IMSE Conference at John Cabbot University, The International Conference on History, The ISSEI Conference and the International Conference on Social Science Research.
Nowadays he travels regularly, exploring Europe by camper van and seeking adventure with his loyal canine companion Tobi.
Arriving on the East of Silesia on the first day of January in the last German Reich,
my mother was congratulated for giving birth to a son, the first of the year in 1942.
Two years later my sister arrived and shortly after died, starvation was the cause as we fled the Russian assault of Marshall Konev’s offensive, fleeing from our home.
My grandfather deprived by fleeing German soldiers of his car, hitched his horses to the winter sled and our troika went west.
Arriving in a refugee camp in Austria, I explored a cellar with other boys, where we discovered boxes of soap from Auschwitz, and my mother warned me, no son, that soap was made of human bones.
We were settled on a farm in the German West, where we gleaned potatoes for food during the harvest with other refugees from the East. To the fields we went, where at sunset someone found a baby rabbit, and snatched it to high jubilation in anticipation of a tasty dinner.
Not able to sleep, I liberated the baby rabbit from its cage, and walked all night to return it to its mother’s nest, earning the scorn of all the rest…
Saw a beautiful woman in the supermarket, gorgeous with a brilliant smile, magnificent hair, grey and white, tied up in bun on top, and held with a chopstick in place.
Elegantly dressed with double button gray coat, long black boots and stylish pants, she guided my eyes.
As she paused to pay at the counter, I noticed her left hand, partially hidden by her coat, the fingers crippled and shriveled, the hand useless and not moving.
A beautiful daisy, vibrant and alive …
precariously…yet preciously…
The ongoing adventures of Petermichael and man's best friend Tobi.
