by Tom Berman
It’s not really a homecoming
Sent to an unknown safety,
I have not lived in this house
for more than half a century
This should be a visit
of coming to terms
with a latent past
black and white photos
of my relatives
on the back verandah
in the summer sunshine
my mother seated in an armchair
looking out of the French windows
to an unimaginable future
But there is no coming to terms,
emotion runs below the surface,
black, deep, cold river
in a black, cold cave
moonlight in my parents room
waiting for ghosts to come
faint, fading images
on a traumatized memory
and the curling black and white snaps
of years ago
the river runs
Hronov is a small town in North Eastern Bohemia.