HOLOCAUST PARK.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A SLEEPING MAN IN hOLOCAUST PARK.

Submitted: August 18, 2010

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Submitted: August 18, 2010

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Shalom and for a
Moment the old guy

Lying down asleep
In Holocaust Park,

Sheepshead Bay, seems like
Some work of modern

Art, some waxwork laid
There to provide the

Artistic shock. You
Stand, stare and wonder

Why he’s lying there.
Drunk maybe, drugged out

Of his skull perhaps,
Or just sleeping in

The great outside, deep
Breathing the free air,

Dreaming of both his
Parents lost in long

Ago Belsen or
Auschwitz when he was

A kid and he then
Against all the odds

Survived. You don’t know
And do not ask, but

Leave him be to his
Big sleep and his dark

Dreams. He’s breathing, that’s
A relief and you

Sigh deep, move slowly
Around him, take in

His image from three
Sides, behind him the

Stone bench and here and
There lay fallen leaves

And thrown down debris.
He sleeps with hands

Tucked between knees,
His legs slightly raised,

Lying on laid out
Cardboard, his white-haired

Head touching the hard
Ground, sleeping, well

Out of it, sleeping
Sound. Shalom, my friend,

You muse, stepping by,
Taking in his checked

Shirt and grey flannel
Pants and well-worn shoes,

And him lying there
Remembering gun

Towers, barbwire,
The parents waving,

The stinking train, and
He motionless, so

Silent, unaware
You’re there looking on.

Farewell unknown friend,
Muttering, shalom.


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