DRY PAIN

Adjacent to my thought
A lonely human frame
Emaciated, of
All healthy tissues
Lay flat
On a rotten bed
Shining all white bones
And, sunken eye-balls
Looked to his own plight
With evaporated tenderness

A silent word
Came from his
Simple gesture
Mere a rolling eye balls
And the dry pain:
"Me of Auschwitz and Belzec
And many more..."

Dachau!

Still my world starve
When I see
That,
He looked like me
Still after
The camp is over...