Alon
alone
not able to stand
nor breathe
suffocating by inches
in the fetid air
in the before time
you breathed music
jazz bloomed
from your fingers
here in the underworld
nothing grows
except despair
tapping imaginary ivories
on your sunken chest
what music can they make
cramped in the
subterranean bowels
of a hell
like no other
in the square
on the other side
the side where life
limps along
there is a piano
yellow
like the stars
the Nazis
forced us to wear
now the yellow
represents
our people
stolen from their lives
and loves
by Nazis
with another name
your beautiful eyes
once looked at the world
with wonder
now nearly sightless
from shrapnel
and starvation
they look inward
struggling to hold
shadows
Imma, Abba
bending time
your mind
unspools
you were Superman
at age six
embodying all that is good
right and true
now you are 24
and for nearly two years
you have been chained
in the dank
dark
bottomless
depths
deprived of air
sustenance
with only sparse drops
of stagnant water
wrenched from
all life
you continue to tap
those black and white keys
because you still trust
the power of music
to transport you
back to the other side
where shadows
become solid
where the only darkness
is silvery moonlight
where there is peace
and unending love
and you finally see
dear precious Alon
that you were never truly
alone