Lolek
we were taken again beyond the gates of katyn
I'd begun to challenge morale feelings over a sudden
stench bellowing from under the chartered tanks
silence abroad Auschwitz my knees chattered
while facing the cold damp window pane my heart
nearly shattered non responsive I suppose
I would remember small things like the empty clock
that sat on the night stand the coil spring the map
to belzec replaced with dead dandelions comfort
had become a slow moving line as we awaited for
the hot brass to brand our pale skin softly I whispered
why I must be next as the grunting hot breath
crawled down my back my only solace was hidden
inside the hem of rags I wore a passage read gravely
among Dante's most ravishing canto's oh how wretched
the mere past times that wandered aimously about
my arched form I'd remembered not to slump focusing
on the Catholic medallion of st Francis clutching it within
my raw chafed fist full of sores and blisters how pretty
I felt still while uniformed guards exposed the white letters
s and p the special kind policing the line leading this
morbid place I remembered my grandmother had gone
before us and now an awakening sight sang out through
this mist of fire breathing almost just beyond the palace
my memory of stale sourdough bread and hot potato soup
why I'd been here before clinging to life's treasures
I'd carefully opened excepting the gravity and useless attempts
of sparing the poor soul's behind me the line moved
yet again screams filled thee earths air as though
the sun had finally fallen into the ocean blue covering
thy living flesh I'd spoken calmly while meaningless
madness aroused my being over come with a past so
very well known memories of my father and not of my own
Copyright © Yolanda Nicholsen | Year Posted 2012
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