ANNY'S CROWDED BUS.

ANNY HOROWITZ ON A CROWDED BUS.

Even on a crowded bus
Anny sits amongst bags
Of shopping and damp
Umbrellas unnoticed her

Blue eyes searching the
Faces of the worried and
Preoccupied her fingers
Ghostly touching the lines

On faces remembering
Names of the Auschwitz
Dead miming the words
Ushering out sentences

That fan the air then she
Turns and looks you in
The eyes hers blue have
That searching gaze that is

It really you? Are you really
There? Kind of innocent stare
And mouths words you fail
To grasp then she turns again

And writes on the steamed
Up window with her finger
Pen Anny Horowitz 1942
Auschwitz then breathes

Her phantom breath on
Glass and scribbles death
But none see or if they do
Take no note of what is written

Or who wrote only you sitting
Stiff across the crowded bus
Saw her ghostly finger write
And why she wrote it thus.

Author's Note

ANNY HOROWITZ DIED IN AUSCHWITZ IN 1942.

Reviews

[Poetic Beauty]

Wow you have written a very creative poem about a lets say spirit that hasn't left this earth. I think ghost is too hokey for this poem. the details and the story line captured my attention from the first line to the very last. Sounds like a personal experience, almost. This is done with great taste and your words speak loud and clear.

[Rose Downing]

It's hard to write a poem about something that didn't happen to you, but you pulled it off. Great job on this one. The stile and meter are fine and the emotion comes trough clearly.