August 23, 2007

Haikus from Visiting Poland

Echoes of past lives
whisper through verdant fields
worlds made foul by man.

Ashes, pyres and graves
no psalms, Kaddish or mourners
with progeny dead.

We must remember
the nameless, faceless millions

Poland, land of death
where neighbors killed for pleasure
weeps for loss of self.

Mikki Mendelsohn

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