Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.



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Group On Way To Gas Chambers
--Auschwitz, Picture Taken 26,000 Feet in the Air, August 25, 1944 Years away from me, smoke opening for a man to name them. I imagine a child down there in the box being drawn around him, who hasn’t died yet; who just wants to fly, fly! His last weather, clear. Not seeing the plane that won’t see him. His mother grips his hand. People down there among the cold circuitry of buildings, people with no pictures in their future, scared, legs hurting, tired, hungry. What are they telling their children, look down, look down, don’t look up. Someone searching the crowd for someone going to the smoke away from them. It is happening again, as in the days of Nebuchadnezzar. The man pointing an arrow as if at a strain of bacteria, black words attached to the arrow. I look down into the dirt of the picture, years after the man has put the picture back into its folder. Someone down there who sees the smoke I can’t from my clean sky, a woman with my face, maybe, whose picture her beloved took as she smiled under an early tree in the days of gardens. Now all her pictures are gone. She is with everybody else down there, she is the Group on the Way to the Gas Chambers, and in those five black words, who down there knows they are history; what faceless face isn’t sure, tasting the ghost of honey and apples; who looks at the sky closing over with smoke and thinks there are shoes to fix, prayers to say in the archangel wings of their language; somewhere in a land Beyond desolation.
Copyright © 2024 Cathryn Coonemccrary. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs