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The Rains of Sobibor

October 15, 2008 by · No comments

Robert Walton

Photo: XirannisX en Off

Insistent claws,
Smaller than a rodent’s,
Furrowed the corners of your mouth.
Hunger’s touch
Was never a caress.

In an empty doorway
A hanging light sways, windblown
And windblown drops shine
Like starfire.

You survived until now,
And now
Cleansing rains are tears
Not just for you.

Citronella scent of candles —
I cup my hands to hold the glow;
It cannot be held.

Categories: Frontpage · poetry


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