Berlin memorial

The nameless shadows
           untimely laid to rest
in avenues of cold hard stone
           cemented into the merciless
grey of winter skies

collective or individual lives
           arranged in rigid alleys
that rise and fall underfoot
           but not a single angle less
than ninety degrees
           no soft circles or tender arcs
or any hint of creative
           deviation from that norm
that awaits us all one day

Here no birds perch
           and no song is heard
as the memories filter
           through and into the dust
these were our cities
           these were our streets
this is the place
           where we finally rest

John Lyons