She walks along the gravel road,
her back bent and tired.
She guides along the wee ones she has sired.

A baby lays cradled in one arm,
as she holds the hand of another.
They stair-step in age from one to five.

Their journey will be one way,
for death waits at the end.
Hitler has ordered them gassed to death,
being Jewish their only crime.

Thousands upon thousands have met their fate.
Herded in bunches through Dachau's gate.
A madman rules Germany with a velvet tongue,
robbing men of their minds, mothers of their young.

A mountain of empty shoes piled high
bear witness to the fact.
Even liberation could not bring them back.

The souls who wore them will no more,
for yesterday found them at heaven's door.

1998