K. L. Auschwitz
by Monika Eberhard		    
 
Katrina laughed, Katrina sang,
Katrina played the violin,
And sewed a pretty dress of blue,
And pricked her finger on a pin.

Blood welled up
Drop of red;
"Careful, Kat,"
Mamma said.

Katrina screamed, Katrina cried,
Katrina played the violin,
While SS men would rape her mom
Then celebrate with stolen gin.


 
  
Tears welled up
Drop of salt
Bloody death
No one's fault ?

Katrina fell. Katrina dies,
Katrina played the violin.
Now peaceful flowers red and blue
Are growing where her bones had been.

Notes well up
Silent string
What'll be done?
Not a thing.		  
 
 
Monika was born in Brazil, and raised in the USA .   Her mother is Polish, and her father - Brazilian.  She graduated from the University of Texas in Austin with the degree in journalism.   She loves Poland, and always looked forward to her summer trips there.  She took classes at  the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, and also taught English to the Polish students. 
Monika lives in Austin.

Other poems by Monika:   Scenes from a Polish Village -  Lublin, Poland