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Katyn

There are no Great Walls there,
No Towers leaning or not leaning
Declaring some king's success
Or mocking another's failure,
No gleaming Duomo where you can
Pray for forgiveness or watch
The cycle of shadows play
Through the coolness of the day,

And soon not even the names
Of those who died will be remembered
(Names like Skrzypinski, Chmura,
Or Anthony Milczarek).
Their harsh voices and tearing courage
Are already lost in the wind,

But their true monuments
Will always be there, in the dust
And the gray ashes and the mounds
Settling over the bodies over which
No words were ever spoken
And no tears shed by a crying mother
Or a trembling sister.

 

©1999 John Guzlowski

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