I remember
the flaking paint
the silvered wood
the empty chair memorial
in the silent square
the milling group
– hardly a crowd – silenced
I remember
the ghost memories, phantom scars
pressing, beseeching, begging, needing
I remember the darkness beyond those doors –
those doors that had witnessed
tragedies a thousand-fold
the cold-sweat terrors
the children torn from their parents’ grasp
I remember
in hindsight –
I remember
I thought I would try to write my entry today for both dVerse Poetics – where the theme is ‘doors’, thank you Lillian for hosting – and the WordPress Daily Prompt – where the theme is ‘Generation’. I hope I succeeded!
Both of the images are from the Krakow Ghetto, where I was fortunate to visit (if that’s the right word) a few years ago. The empty chair memorial is incredibly moving, for me in the lump in the throat kind of a way. The homes, the remnants, which are still inhabited, are dilapidated, and I can hardly imagine what the conditions must have been like during the ghetto’s existence. The picture at the top is of one of the houses, behind one of the few remaing parts of the ghetto wall. (I didn’t take these particular photos).
Anyway, if you want to read other writer’s offerings, or take part yourself in either or both of these writing prompts, please click the links above.
Freya Writes... 
A sobering response to the prompt. We shall never forget.
Thank you for posting.
Thank you, Lilian. I hadn’t intended to write something like this at all. it just goes to show how the muse dances off in her own sweet way sometimes.
Sometime times in tap shoes and others in holey woolen socks!
A really beautiful response to the prompt. You write beautifully, and truly craft an image with the words. A really beautiful post, and I enjoyed reading it a lot😊
Hey Scarlett – thank you so much, I really appreciate your lovely comments!
Wow. Thank you for the beautiful insight into this heartbreaking place. Your words, like the art of the memorial, give it beauty.
Thank you so much, I do appreciate you reading and commenting on my writing.
Heart-rending words and picture. Well done.
Thank you.
Great poem that reflects horrors we inflict on each other.
Thank you.
Dark and chilling memories ~ Well done ~
Chilling, evocative reminder of a tragic time in history that we need to remember and not repeat. Thanks for this.
Thank you.
Lest we forget; excellent work. I walked around in an abandoned Mental hospital & picked up similar vibes. Trump, the mere thought of him in the oval office hits me the same way; the rise of American Fascism.
Thank you, Glenn. I’m not in the US, but I dread to think of the consequences of him winning.
I think you conveyed the chilling nature of those places so very well Freya.
I hope you are keeping well.
Thank you Michael. Yes, I’m well thank you, I hope you are too.
Do well thanks Freya, every day is a good day..
GHosts oF terrOr
builDinGs Of War
crumbLed tEars..
DeATh
bleeds
A SonG..
FiRe briGht
FirE SinGS
Bold Cold
BoNes
FeeL..
bitE.. oF LiFe..:)
I can’t imagine what life must have been like…never knowing when a midnight knock would destroy your life for ever
“ghost memories, phantom scars” — perfect descriptions — a sad and beautiful capture.
Thank you so much, I really appreciate your comments.
Thank you for giving us this glimpse into the ghetto remnants and empty chair memorial… An evocative write!
Thank you, Lynn, that’s very kind of you to say so.