Resistance

Written after visiting the forest of the Tykocin mass grave in Poland

Footsteps
Footprints in snow
March of the living
Sunlight pokes out between thousands of
still, ominous, red trees
Casting shadows on each of us

But what about the shadows of the bodies
beneath the snow?
Where have their shadows gone?

We hear an anecdote
A story
Words that move
That paint a picture

Now that’s all we have
Images in our imaginations
of horrors
we cannot even conceive

Soon, memories will have dissolved
into the ground
Passed on only through records and stories
of innocent souls

I feel them looking down on me
As I retrace their steps
Flesh, skin, bones beneath my shoes

Above, their spirits transcending time
Hovering infinitely between the trees

Our remembrance is our resistance