Not knowing what to do with so many tears,

I walked to the mother of all maples,

Planted myself before her great trunk, tilted my head back and looked through time.

I spoke a few words to the dark,

“I recognize you, you resilient ones. I want to bless you millions of stars that suffer no more, but give light.”

Your lives’ suspended animation

Reached across a shivering silence hundreds of thousands of miles

To move my heart.

** ** **

This poem sprung from a bit of my work exposing me to the photographs of Henryk Ross of the Lodz ghetto.

About Erin W

A sensitive plant, bamboo strong.
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