First Place Winner: Christy Hill I wrote this poem to the painting, My Great Grandmother is
in The Moon by Linda Frimer in her exhibit, Returning home at the Sidney and
Gertrude Zack Gallery.
In Darkness, In Silence.
In the face of Jewish history, the art gallery shrinks,
Four white walls close in around me as brittle as bone.
Dread, terror, a numbness in my hands, hollowness.
The Holocaust shrouds this room: extinguished souls
Mark canvases, the haunted Star of David.
I do not want to remember. I do not want to forget.
In the painting, I see emaciated trees, tangled limbs,
Branches reach, tremble, shiver and claw at night.
As if asking,
please, remove this darkness.
Please, remove this cold veil of death.
In the landscape, I see buried truth, separation, silence.
Children torn from mothers, husbands from wives,
Brothers from sisters. Crammed into trains
On tracks that lead to barbed wire, barracks, bones.
A stone in my throat. Helplessness.
Auschwitz whispers from gallery corners:
Evidence is etched in paint, the stark black of photographs.
In the wind in the branches, I hear gas escaping and
See gaunt prisoners clamber into chambers, tricked
By guards, starvation and the promise of food.
In horror and in fright, I witness prisoners as they
Discover endless corpses and death's blue touch.
I cannot remember. I cannot forget.
In the canvas center above the trees,
I see my great grandmother in the moon,
Whose light is as white as doves,
Whose love radiates, is a circle wide.
As if asking,
please, invite in the moonlight.
Please, invite in this love.
In the face of Jewish history, the art gallery expands,
Four white walls open around me as soft as the glow of lights.
Survival, safety, a heat in my hands, openness.
Here, a Jewish people, reclaimed.
This community centre,
This Art show,
This poetry offers up a voice.
I do not want to remember. I do not want to forget.
