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Amsterdam, Anne Frank Huis
Here, the dead speak quietly.
Clamoring clings. Hiding, hunted,
humans, haunt. Holocaust in
a historic haven, a ground zero
for grief. Amsterdam, I will not
forget this canal, how my heart
pounded as I took the picture too
soon. Pointing to a blurred window,
an imagined parapet shadows the
placid water.
Alpha girl, I have known you
from inside your secret place.
Memorized your words, reworked
a happy ending. I peer out your
secret window. Feel the breeze
that never freshened your stifled
air. I am your friend come to take
you home. I am overwhelmed
with grief knowing you died before
I was ever born. I am your mutant
child: eternal witness. Listen. Look.
These horrors have happened. Here.
Here, along this canal. I have a
picture.
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