Herta

I met her when
She was nineteen,
A stunning beauty,
A vision rarely seen,
Yet, in her eyes
A melancholy quality,
Some deep trauma,
Reflecting in her personality,
Discovered that the Holocaust
Had left its stamp,
When as a teen they forced her
To sex-service soldiers
In a German army camp.

The years have passed,
She's now my friend's wife,
A home, two children,
And a good life,
A happy pair,
But that melancholy look?
Yes, it's still there...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz