Seaside Visitation.

a ghostly visitation by anny horowitz,

Your grandchildren
play in the sea,
splashing and screaming
as the water chills.

You watch as you sit
on the stone wall,
your feet on the sand.

Anny stands staring out
at the broad horizon,
her ghostly hand
above her brow
to keep out
the sun’s bright glare,
her small phantom feet
touching the beach,
far from the water’s reach.

She hears the playful screams,
and ventures on down
between the crowds
who occupy the sands
with chairs and towels
and windbreaker walls.

She waits and gazes
at your grandchildren’s play,
her blonde hair and bow
touched by the sun’s glow.

You watch her as stands there
rooted in the sands,
knowing none see her
as you do now, her hands
resting behind her back,
seemingly in deep thought,
she wanders along the beach,
her eyes taking in
the seaside show,
her profile captured
by the sun’s warm kiss.

She turns and looks at you,
knowing that you see her there,
smiling she waves a hand,
then she’s gone from sight,
as once before
in Auschwitz’s hold she went.

Nothing now but the sea sound
and grandchildren’s laughter
and sea air and Anny’s scent.

Reviews

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, Marie.

[Marie Harrison]

What a haunting piece of peotry.
It's beautiful!