Monk in Auschwitz 16



Scrap of Paper


In glossy black boots
The Sturmfuehrer stood
In front of the starving men
Eating a wurst wrapped in paper.

After he had finished he crumpled it
Then let it fall.
Thomas was ordered to pick it up
With his teeth
And deposit it in the trash.

He recognized what it was,
A page of the Torah,
And slid it into his sleeve.

That evening after dark
He passed it to an old man
And after midnight
Saw a group of them
Huddled at the far end of the block
Listening to him read it
Over and over again.

When daylight came
They were chased out
To a mound before an open pit.
Lining themselves at the edge
The Sturmfuehrer
Had them turn to him
And he shot them in the forehead,
One after the other.


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