The Starry Night.

the ghost of Anny visits.

Anny looks intently
at the Van Gogh print,

the Starry Night.
Her ghostly finger

slowly tracing
the yellow painted stars.

Auschwitz seems
a lifetime away;

the horror tattooed
on her phantom skin.

Her blue eyes gaze
as her finger moves,

her blonde hair beatified
by a small bow.

She says nothing.
she knows you watch her

with your poet’s eye,
as she allows

the stars to twinkle
in that other world

of art and innocence,
where none

is murdered
in the millions

nor lives torn apart.