By Anthony Parker

This is a poem I wrote based on a visit to Kazimierz in Krakow, reflecting on the brutal uprooting of the Jewish community by an ideology of hatred.


It feels strangely empty,

There are bars yes,

There’s music yes,

yet the soul has gone,

Ripped out.


It’s like going to an old house when the occupants have long since passed, Blotted out.


Those Hebrew letters on archways curl,

Reminders of a lost world.

Ghostly whispers heard,

Telling stories of a people lost,

Forced out.


Wooden logs hide under stairs where once people hid, The cobbles, Where hateful boots pounded, Lie silent now.

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