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Concertina: Sonnet For Yom Hashoah
Tonight, I miss God, though I doubt he IS;
All sense of Providence stripped away
Like my wife’s gray smock last time I saw her
Walking naked and welted to showers
From whence the sole cleansing is soul release
From this chamber of horrors which now is
Our life. Dirty Jood they now call me,
Spitting, and striking my dignity down.
The world around me seems strange viewed through
Coiled concertina razor wire,
Cut-off, as it were, from all engagement
With beauty, birds, billowing clouds, blessings.
O God, departed One, return delight’s
Remembrance in Redemption, if You care!
© 2016 David W. Palmer
Copyright ©
David Palmer
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