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| A candle and roses laid on a set of Stolpersteine in Berlin at a commemorative ceremony marking the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht. Photograph: Eliza Apperly —The Guardian, February 18, 2019 |
So they walk.
This invisible procession of ghosts,
a march of mist.
Hidden amongst the alleyways
and cobblestones
of forgotten footprints
in stone and snow.
A fingerless glove
caresses a patch of brass.
Here I am
His words
shadows in the air.
Kristallnacht.
His home
the face of the past.
The girl recognises him.
The Boy with the Jasper Eyes.
They used to play and sing
in the alleyways of
snow and school satchels.
She could smell the scent
of leather between them.
His musty jacket.
The fragrance of childhood.
She could only see
the back of his head
as they walked.
An innocent almond
in its collared sheath.
She remembers his gentle hands.
His careful smile.
Please turn around.
The Boy with the Jasper Eyes.
His words fell to the floor
of stone and snow
in their quiet knowing.
Three pebbles rolled
off the tongue onto
The Stumbling Stone
Here I am
Then she was alone.
The girl suddenly felt tired.
It was as if the whole of history
was buried deep behind her eyes.
A Grave for the Jews.
It was then she noticed the fire.
A window. A fireplace.
Laughter. Papa’s arms.
The smell of pine.
The taste of boiled lollies.
There was no brass plate
beneath her feet.
No Stolpersteine.
My name is Anna
and I live here.
Mark Tarren is a poet and writer based in Queensland, Australia. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in various literary journals including TheNewVerse.News, The Blue Nib, Poets Reading The News, Street Light Press, Spillwords Press and Tuck Magazine.
