Auschwitz E. Poland, January 27, 1945 , a poem by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Deep January
never felt so warm–
when the strong arms
of the Red Army
picked up
the skeleton-like people
and set them
on blankets in the snow.

The evil snake
had reached down
deep into their bodies
and tried to snatch
their very souls,

but the soldiers
gathered them
like sick dogs
in their arms
and set them
into the sunshine.

Libertacja was like
the swinging
of a thousand swings
up into the air–
a day when poetry
began to be written.

Originally published in Gallup Journey, January 5, 2011