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Counting to Ten

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Dispatched to our recycle bins 
the memory of their suffering 
comes across as a 
thawing out window 
lost across the decades 
rather than perpetual 
 constant moaning,

An epitaph in the wind, 

sleeping in the distance 
with shell like heads 
and shaved eyes 
staring at the camera,

counting to ten

engulfed in silence

in front of a candle 
between emotions 
that lie between
the pair of them,
praying silently their son 
wasn’t on the next train.  

(For Paul Cealan Who lost his parents
during the Second World War)

 

(A poem from the soon to be released split book 'Europa'  with Nick Armbrister which explores real life stories set in the cruelty of War)

 

◄ Cat’s Prayer

Prisoners of War ►

Comments

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Gray Nicholls

Thu 27th Feb 2014 12:49

i agree with M.C. here, Andy. it's a very short piece but the silence after counting to ten made me shiver.

i am well familar with Paul Celan and think he would certainly have liked this tribute (i know i did).

Excellent.

When's the book out? If the rest of the book is as good, this should be a cracker of a book.

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M.C. Newberry

Thu 27th Feb 2014 10:17

An intriguing use of modern terminology ("recycle
bins") in a poignant reminder of what was allowed
to happen in war when humanity lost sight of that very word and millions suffered unspeakable
horrors as a result of what was not conflict but hate-driven murder.

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