We remember
the chill silence
as quiet as a snowfall,
when unyielding footsteps
crunched softly
as though across thin ice.

We remember
the steady
of dark venom
down ink-filled gutters.

We remember
the drawn curtains,
the shuttered windows,
the slammed doors,
the invitations
the positions closed,
the jobs lost,
the friends
who disappeared.

We remember
the bitter cold
as neighbor avoided neighbor;
eyes downcast,
shoulders slumped,
smiles erased,
frozen in our terror. 

We remember
when suspicion
became certainty;
when chanted slogans
became shrieks for vengeance,
when indignation
became ignition
for the fires of hate.

We remember
when excited crowds
became angry mobs
fueled with resentment,
hot with rage,
shattering the night
with their stamping feet
like the crackling leaves
of an autumn bonfire.

We remember
when distrust
and fear
fell upon the land
like an ash-gray dust,
transforming every face
into a death mask.  

We remember
how many
died for their belief.

May we never forget.

Deborah Beach Giordano
On the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht,
the Night of Broken Glass
November 9, 2018

About inklingscommunity

I am a struggling Christian, committed pacifist, near-obsessive recycler, incurable animal lover, inveterate tree-hugger; a nature mystic, a socialized introvert, an advocate for the vulnerable, an opponent of exploiters.
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