Deaths Elsewhere

The train slows to a stop.
Jews stand in dark boxcars
blinded by the light
as heavy doors roll back
with the sound of thunder.
Frightened faces confront Nazi soldiers
who confiscate pieces of gold from
pockets, fingers, and teeth.

An orchestra stirs the acrid Polish air
during the selection.
Women who hold a child by the hand,
or carry one in their wombs,
are sent to the left.
Judith’s mother gently shoves
her right, without saying goodbye.

In the order of things
some went the way of Birkenau.
Lilian and Elisabeth, who wore
the letter “S ”, remained at Auschwitz,
destined for special treatment in Block 10.
Needles drew blood, injected disease,
punctured wounds; the fire of formaldehyde
shot into ovaries consumed generations.

Women with severed arms held
the gaze of emaciated children,
wiped tears from their hollow eyes,
slipped scraps of food between lips
that could barely speak; small voices
choked on genocide.

III

In the dark barracks
Lilian lies on wooden slats
where butterflies are carved
in posts above her head.
Dr. Slavka comes at midnight
to soothe scars of vivisection.
Her presence
in the absence of light
allows safe passage to dream.

In deep sleep, Lilian escapes
her chrysalis; she emerges,
spreads beautiful wings
to soar above black smoke
and the land-locked ash.

*Dr. Slavka, a Gentile prisoner, forced to work with the Nazis.