Stones

4/20/12 — March of the Living — Treblinka

I sit on the cold earth. 

Quiet reaches the heart, 

calming me to the simple world around me. 

Only the birds chirp,

ignorant to the words the earth speaks.

A ragged landscape took shape,

edges of stone,

some narrowing into each other and some slanting unexpectedly,

descend into the ground,

creating blocks seemingly untouched by time.

The figures are scattered,

unknowingly close to some and distant to others.

Large or small,

each replaces something once there and now lost.

Some have words,

some don't,

each speaking the same message.

All speak at once,

overwhelming my consciousness with a permanent impression.

Death grows the figures,

feeding off those already standing.

As I sit overlooking the landscape,

the quiet still silent,

the birds still chirping,

a tear runs down my cheek.

Reviews

[LustForTheLetters]

I loved this poem! You're really good at capturing the sense of emotions for the reader! I hope you write more stuff I can read!! :)