By
the dull electric lamp
arose
a vision so intense,
undimmed
by squalor, stench and damp
in
that Polish prison camp.
Emblems
of their offence,
pink
triangle and yellow star,
tattoo
just below the sleeve
a
hunger for tomorrow,
for
reprieve. A hope that
what began in sorrow
would
not end in grief.
A
fantasy, the sweet relief of human touch,
the
longing that grew so much,
became
so great -
the
lightest brush seemed profligate.
For
dignity of those involved, for all -
they
did what dignity demands,
resolved
that when their names were called
to
go together hand in hand.
In
the furnace in the flame
Each
heard the others name,
And
as the flames burned brighter still
their
grip grew tighter
till
their fingers intertwined,
tight
as their desire
in
the furnace in the fire,
Flesh
and bone combined.
The
heat intensified
then
tempered, they found
release that was denied
and they were one
release that was denied
and they were one
with
ash and embers,
