A Lament Over Anne Frank's Brevity.


A Lament Over Anne Frank's Brevity.



Will there be an acknowledgement
after I gasp my last breath,
of just how much I 've lost when:

"The sun is shining, the sky is deep blue,
there's a magnificent breeze,
and I remain longing...really longing.

As my soul rises from silent flesh,
till I am gazing on the ruin of time,
exacted in scars and wrinkled folds
in what was once me.

How much more


horrible it must have been,
for Anne who died
so young and fresh.
To gaze on life's perfections

never realized,
pale skin that never
truly knew true love,

or passion's kiss 
babies, and laughter,
home and hearth of her own.
or just long hours of dawdling
in the sunsets of middle age.

What should have
been her joyous teen years,
were spent in furtive seclusion,
an addict of fear, in a attic of fear,
and yet she savored every breath,
parceling it out in heartrending words
before the Nazi maggots consumed her.

Perhaps I will think of her,
when my time is done,
and be extremely grateful for
the wondrous amount of
life I was granted.
Then I will turn, and go
whistling my way up
that tunnel of light
to where all unfinished
earthly dreams become
at long last heavenly.

Perhaps we'll
share some tea,
as I pore over all of the
latest, brightest chapters
that have graced her
eternal safe haven
in God's attic above.


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