"razor wire and memories..."

they stand
beside it
backs to the wall...

a crosshatch of razor wire
slicing through
the slate gray winter's
sky
it hangs untroubled
above a
slumbering world.

it is the same
in auschwitz,
bergen belsen,
buchewald...

they wait
staring through the
wire threaded
air
hungry for the face of
a loved one,
thirsty for news from home...

they wait,
bone cold with fear
that cannot
extinquish the
hot shame of
bare
backs and
shaven heads

but there is something
hotter yet...

an ember of hope
lodged deeper still
than the bitter
ache of
disbelief...

dignity stands tall inside their
shunken
coats and shattered
hearts...

they hold hands
warming one another with the
still barely
glowing coals of
remembering
high holy days,
candles and shabbat prayers
at dusk, 
hot tea in
tall glasses,
tulips on the Zeider Zee,
challah fresh from
the deep ovens that make your
cheeks flame...disguising the
sweetness you feel for
the rabbi's son...

crisp wet linens
snapping in the wind on
a bright winter's day,
the cantors prayers
above
a child's stifled
giggle when sacred words were still
only lyrics to a temple song
and
not yet
the thread that held you
together and kept your
hope from
shredding on razor wire...

each memory is a blessing
whispered between
those whose bodies are no
longer
distinguishable as girls,
or
crones...

each memory fanning
the flame of home and hope...

the snow will come
soon,
frozen tears
from
a grey flecked sky
it
promises to
caress their bare
ankles in
other
memories...

of girls with
lace-edged socks and
a temple
filled with
prayers...
and
laughter....

with Love,
and Life...

it is now
a temple
alive
within
each of them...

"I called upon the Lord,
and cried to my God:
and He did hear my voice
out of His temple..."
- II Samuel