Commuting to Bratislava
In the immediate past
Has come down to travel
A few times per annum
Whenever a commemorative
Assembly of people will gather
To recall History’s darkest hours
Never to slide into oblivion.
Honour victims of the Holocaust
Or this time the willful destruction
Of the well-designed synagogue.
Its photographic representation
Rests pleasantly on one’s mind
Having bound successfully once
Into the City’s town planning fibre.
The spot now empty and raw
A broken off limb from the body
Of man’s creative being.
In the vicinity of the ‘Crowning Church’
This town planning’s erasure strikes
At the heart of any human being.
Bratislava. Pressburg. Pozsony.
A city rich with historical events.
Besides: Birthplace of Tommy and
His sister Erika
Saved by his Mom’s white lie to
The Nazi Boss: Brunner –
Eichmann’s right hand man –
Who deported his Dad via Sered
To Auschwitz.
At present tourists flock through
The illustrious friendly town with
Excellent renovated city squares
And historical buildings
Foremost the town square.
‘We are all here together.’
‘It’s so nice!’ Tommy says to his family
And extensions: Ophelia and Zsolt.
His spouse Mrs Inge agrees and
There are smiles all around.
Pending his 85th birthday
Tommy invites for lunch at Zichy’s
Opposite to his Family’s home
And where he was growing up.
Two marble plaques record the
Artist Adolf Frankl.
ZICHY.YHCIZ
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’19.
