Seventy Years Later
Auschwitz
One Sunday morning in Munich
Seventy years later
I saw six suitcases painted white
Standing on a sidewalk
Each with a rose stuck on
And nametags.
People came past
Stopped, bent over to read
And continued on with stooped shoulders—
Wrenched from Sunday calm.
1 comment:
This is a beautiful poem, and so sad. Thanks so much for sharing.
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