ANNY WATCHING SCHINDLER'S LIST.

ANNY HOROWITZ WATCHING SCHINDLER'S LIST ON A TV IN GHOSTLY PRESENCE.

You sit watching the repeat of Schindler’s
List on the 19” TV, the black
And white imagery, and she’s there in the

Chair (where your wife usually sits): Anny
Horowitz, her blue eyes on the screen, her
Ghostly hands on the arms of the chair, that

Far away stare, her wavy blond hair pinned
With small bows. You say nothing, but watch her
Out of the corner of your eye, seeing

The reflected images in her eyes,
Her fingers tapping the chair arms, her small
Tongue licking her lower lip. You turn to

Face the TV screen, knowing she’s looking
Too, wondering what she makes of the small
TV and the film and what she’ll make of

The darker themes that follow later in
The film. Out of the corner of your eye,
You see her ghostly legs dangle over

The chair’s edge, the 1930’s phantom
Black shoes encasing her small feet, touching
At the toes, her right hand going up and

Touching the nose, lingering by the cheek,
As if awaiting tears. No Schindler for
You, then, you mutter, your words hollow in

The otherwise empty room, the curtains
Drawn, the light dim. No, she replies, not for
Others or me. Her words seem like those in

Dreams: echoing, brittle, soft, hanging in
The air as if on wings. You watch the film
Once more, the snow, the killings, the death of

Innocents, pools of black blood in white snow.
You watch her fingers brush away phantom
Tears, her blue eyes seeming to swim through the

Watery wash, fingers tapping on the
Left arm of the chair, feet kissing each to
Each at the toes of the shoes, mère, mère, she

Mutters, the French fragile, the words slowly
Repeated over and over, seeming
To fall from her small tongue, into the dark

Void of time and space between you and her:
Anny Horowitz and the black and white
Film flickering on the 19” screen
And the horrors of the camp called Auschwitz.