Blurring Together

Leather shoes lay

in a decrepit heap,

graying, aging,

never to be worn again,

thrust together by history

in the most unimaginable

of ways.

Angry German words

reverberate,

jabbing my ears

with their severity,

eventually blurring together

into one unintelligible threat.

Silent people

from all corners of the world

shuffle through the exhibit,

grave expressions

on every face.

Their gasps

and tormented muttering

barely reach my ears.

Only a few dim lights

split the darkness,

illuminating images

I wish I could unsee.

Some turn away,

no longer able to watch,

but I remain frozen in place,

stunned by the past.

Halls of pictures

illustrate just one life,

separate from but chained to

the millions of others lost.

The yellowed photos cloud

behind my fogged vision,

my inevitable tears falling

at last.