I do not know their faces
Nor the shape of their hopes
Smiles or holy days
Though their names are familiar
Their dead branches whisper to me
Cut off long before I grew
To stretch my own limbs skyward
Drinking in the warmth of life
Pollarded by the Shoah
They were dead wood
Judged and executed
Discarded, pulped
Their elder fruits
Dropped, dried,
Repackaged and distributed
To nourish the living
Old shoes, clothes, handbags
Torahs pulped for toilet paper
To wipe the arse of the aggressor
Marching through ancestral Europe
Kicks supplied on demand
At discount rates
An eye for an eyeful
A bullet for a broken bone
Until I stand here
Weary of remembrance
Sighing in the comfort of
Survivor’s guilt
Read Primo Levi and think of
Stage directions for a ‘war’ film
Complain about my own
Petty frustrations
Knowing we can never again
Afford to plead our ignorance
Of the mechanised
Bestiality of man
Katherine Shirley 
Wow. Wow. This is very powerful. I too have written a lot about the Holocaust, my grandparents on both sides survived in various ways.
This poem needs to be read. Do you mind if I reblog (or link, if you don’t want to be reblogged)? If you don’t want me to I understand, that’s OK. I just think this poem really needs to be read. This is a really good poem.
Thank you for your comments. I am glad you enjoyed the poem. I would prefer a link to a reblog, but by all means share if you think someone else would enjoy this.
Just shared a link on my blog.
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This is very emotional and raw.
An art piece worthy of fine praise….thank you for sharing such an in-depth and rare piece of yourself! I search the web daily for new and fresh poets or poems that hold that virtuous quality that you so easily possess. HOT DAMN!!!!
Thank you.