Almost Holocaust
by arthur weil
No number burned into my arm
Just all around the inside
Of my skull
Reflected in precious grey matter
Easily retrieved
So alone
No siblings
The pavement of Hanover
The walking dreamer
No bomb, no barbed wire
No aura of defeat
Escape to America
Too late after the Holocaust
Etched into my brain
Always walking
Excited with broken English
I was a wounded, mature 12-year-old
Unable to jump out of his skin
For you are what you are
I constantly asked
How could one percent of the population
Be such a hindrance?
Little time for love
For attention
Now later
I do retain some of my religion
Always trying to visualize the omnipotent God
Anxious to give love
Never learning how
With wild abandonment
I dug new roots
Arthur Weil came to the United States as a child refugee from Germany and spent his formative years in Chicago, where he received his B.A. in history from Roosevelt University. He served in the Army during World War II, and taught history and German in the public schools for 27 years. Weil began writing at the age of 74, and has published 15 books of poetry. He lives in Piedmont.