Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.129.39.144

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Was it day, was it night?
 shufflings, packed with arms, legs, heads, torsos
  handled like cattle on a train car, ready to move along the tracks;
the bodies merge -
 men, women, teenagers, children, babes in arms,
  blended, mixed in sweat and fear, every sound loud 
   whispering, trembling, internment tremors of a heartbeat pounding;
the echoes live, alive and too well know,
 inaudible, aghast, hate, compelling rage and fear 
  holding every breath, acquiesced acceptance, and submission; 
the rumors of truth or lie prevail,
 now immaterial, unimportant, insignificance set in a new reality
  where time, life, no longer matters, possessions, money, land,
   all trinkets left behind, buried to confiscations of time;
last call. boarding passes for all, 
 believers and deceivers, travelers
  on the last train to Auschwitz;
   was it day, was it night, yesterday or today? 
Surely, you remember, or is it just another lie of denial
 history fading away, haunted by the sound of the train whistle
  blowing smoke, hollowed thru clouds, in the emptiness of the gray sky,
oblivion of yesterday's images,
 peer thru the slitted openings and see
 line after line of crosses and stones, 
 marking the ghosts, waiting, calling out
  all aboard now,
 ALL ABOARD.

 Can we, do we, will we ever learn 
    from the tragedies 
     of our shared histories?

Will it be day or
 will it be night,
   today
  or tomorrow?

All aboard now?




Last Train to Auschwitz 
for Kai Michael Neumann's Poetry Contest
4/12/21

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required