
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