by Janice Alper (San Diego, CA)
I walk in silence along grass covered train tracks
with teenagers, Holocaust survivors, chaperones.
We are a sea of blue. Our jackets boast
MARCH OF THE LIVING. Butterflies flutter
onto wildflowers, birds chirp in sparse trees.
We shade our eyes from bright sunlight, stare
at the expanse of 17,000 stone markers with
names of towns and villages no longer in existence.
Two teens help me on my fruitless quest to find
my great-great grandparents’ birthplace. We rest,
sit on the ground, our backs against the smooth
stones, close our eyes. For a moment we are
joined with those who are gone.
At dusk, young lovers stroll hand in hand,
in the shadow of a new moon, hug,
make love, ignore the ghosts of Treblinka.
Janice Alper writes poems, personal essays, and memoirs. Her work has appeared in the San Diego Poetry Annual, Bristlecone, and California Bards, and other places. She is the author of Sitting on the Stoop: A Girl Grows in Brooklyn, 1944-1957. Janice is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry, from San Diego State University. Follow her at www.janicesjottings1.com
Editor’s Note: “Where the train tracks end” originally appeared on OftheBook (https://ofthebookpress.com) and is reprinted here with permission of the author.
The Jewish Writing Project 