AHEYM by James Goertel at today’s Friday Poetry.
Snow falls outside,
inside the hiemal, bitter wind
of desolation plays violin,
a sad and searching lament
sorrowing above the damnable camp at Dachau,
across an unconscionable Pine Ridge Reservation,
overhead Solzhenitsyn’s opprobrious Gulag Archipelago,
whistling through the swinging gate of the 20th century in revision
where the sun is painted posthumously
over landscapes which still bear witness to the scars
of one hundred years frozen in time.