Anny would have been there, Would have travelled that train, Known the cold air, the winds And snow. Not a place one Would choose to go. One was Sent, packed off, ordered on To trains, crammed together, No seat by a window, No views: just a camp for Rejects and Jews. Auschwitz. The name vibrates in the Cold air, sends shudders down Spines, quivers onto lips. Anny would have known that, Would have felt the chilled winds On flesh, in bones, seen sights, Heard moans and cries, seen smoke And ashes in grey skies. Silent there now, just ghosts Maybe on rail track and In camp and the phantom Echo of feet on the Snow going tramp, tramp, tramp.

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