YAD VASHEM (A true story.)

Two kids in Poland before the World War,

Two distant cousins, and yet they both swore

One day they’d marry but all they had planned

Stopped, when the Nazis invaded their land.

The Jews went to death camps. We waved good bye.

Families were slaughtered; and millions would die.

But these two survived, although neither knew

Who was alive or was smoke up the flue.

Then new days of freedom, all family gone

Pick up the pieces and try to go on.

These two survivors took ships ‘cross the sea

Where they would start over, lonely but free.

Five decades alone in New York, LA,

Haunted by memories until one day

Remembrance reached out, called to both of them

To journey as pilgrims to Yad Vashem.

Two “strangers,” side by side, memories grew,

Of Poland, a shtetl, old images, new.

”“Zachor!” cried the walls and eternal flame.

Then two hands reached out to touch the same name.

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