"I Was in Lidice" by Julia Esquivel

I was in Lidice.

I walked slowly
contemplating the roses.

Red and yellow roses,
white and pink,
and lilac.

Only roses

I stopped and drank thirstily
of this whole place, the houses,
stores, schools, and the Church.
I surveyed all
the green carpet
that covers the past
and felt death wafting
across my chilled skin.

Later,
I went into the museum
I saw the ID papers,
photographs
bits of timeworn clothing
fragments of eyeglasses
other belongings
of those who were assassinated.

I listened to the story
and relived the horror of children
crowded together,
their faces pale with hunger,
their eyes incredibly wide...

I heard the footsteps
of the Nazis
driving them to death...

Yes, I was in Lidice.

And now, my heart in shreds,
I think of the Super-Nazis
in the Pentagon
who have created more than 200 Lidices
in my little Guatemala
sheltered by the diplomatic marketplace
of false Western democracy.

Yes, I am familiar with Lidice.