Anne Frank’s Window by Tricia Marcella Cimera

(for Anne Frank)

She’s in a place of many windows,

letting in all the light of the universe.

She can lean out and look down

upon all of us, at any time.

She can see the remnants of Auschwitz.

At the house on Prinsengracht 263,

she can see her plaid diary

kept carefully under glass.

She can see her attic room.

She can see school-children

crowding together, their footsteps

echoing on the old wooden floors.

She can hear the teachers asking,

What has Anne taught us?

and hears the many answers.

She’s in a place of no countries,

no policies, no fear, no time.

She sees no difference between

the children of Afghanistan or Syria.

But she sees the boot-prints on their backs,

just as well as you or I can.

She calls down to us, What has changed?

but only hears the wind blowing

through the chestnut trees.

The dark-eyed girl closes her window.


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