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Buchenwald
by Jane E PearceI never thought I could make
the trip back, but I promised
the others-the faces of those children
and mothers with mouths wide open,
necks arched seeking air.
.
Those who stood with bony knees
rubbing each other to talc say,
"Keep your word. Return to that hell
and tell the world how brutal,
and hateful eyes fed us poison gas,
and roasted our bodies"
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Buchenwald stands now, benign
but the maggots sing old war songs
as they chew away and crawl
in and out of the hints of flesh.
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The cries and screams ricochet
from wall to wall when the night winds
are silent , and the smoke curling
up from the ovens beckons to souls
to reclaim their old leather shoes,
now in the Holocaust Museum in DC.
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The survivors are dwindling ,
and the story must be passed
from parents to children, to grandchildren,
to great grandchildren, to great great grandchildren.
Or it will happen again.
06/16/2007 Posted on 06/16/2007
Copyright © 2025 Jane E Pearce
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jean Mollett on 11/25/07 at 07:32 PM Hi jane,
I knew what this is about. Yes, we must not forget the Holocaust. To think their trying to take it out of the history books and telling the kids it didn't happen. Is unreal. It is real, there is too much evidence and it's been proven. Some people are still alive from it today. |
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