Thursday, November 8, 2012

lasting effects...


Screams, embedded history in his sleep; he hates his Holocaust
history, undisguised, vicious,
a German Shepherd unleashed at Jewish playgrounds.                                       

He feels it the way his grandchildren feel his unresolved fear
learned in a language they don’t speak; they cringe when his
broken emotions, whips of war, prevail. But there are no whips.

Just dogs brought to Poland as Nazi pets, snappy as Hitler
Youth; their cruelty unavoidable as tremors his grandchildren
clasp, wear as beads of an heirloomed necklace.

                        B.Koplen   11/6/12

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