Treasure Island

Frank Bana

After the War.....

Never forget how peace awaited you,
the joy you felt, the passion that you made
as Yankee tanks rolled down your streets
and shook your bedposts thunderously.

Or was it you? The nightmares fade
as window shards on cobbles laid,
glinting in the newborn sun
by stones once thrown to bring them down.

The ships were hunted too, sunken and drowned
their cargo holds of refugee
humanity capsized too far offshore, lost to
the promised lands, but not erased
from history, the sins of the descendants and
surviving few are never washed to sea.
For history will not forget so soon.

For me, the Shofar's calling, its caress
upon the curves of Pomeranian hills, the trysts
the magical, unfettered hours with you, but now
pleasure is scarce, and one must pay
in currency of life's regret

the moments have to find their end, our lives
tied to the ruined plough that furrows on
the fields we sowed. We can't forget
the love we made
in war's confine.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 09, 2008
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