Escape
The booming blows echo with fire
As we hunker in huddled hives of fear.
We slosh in muddy blood puddles
As the second war rings around.
Some of us hum in quiet prayer
While others cry in Yiddish curses.
We wait for a rescue which never arrives,
And some settle for shallow graves.
Now night nears and we move.
We slop slowly on trampled torsos
Under the veil of nights black blanket.
Frosted in filth—we’re only eyes.