Charlotte M
Can the earth itself hold memory? The forest planted to conceal Sobibor extermination camp.
The roots of this forest run deeper than most,
They stretch back not only through time,
But in hate and in death and in bloodshed
A forest was born from a crime.
This crime was itself a collection,
An assembly of evil and vice,
That condemned souls to death by the thousand
That played God in control of a life.
When some of those souls dared to challenge this “god”
And fight so that they may be free,
They ran towards the trees at the edge of the woods
And were hunted as they tried to flee.
Behind was a camp left in ruins,
A memory of violence and pain,
And though the walls that had held had been broken,
Proof of the crime still remained.
To cover the tracks that the Nazis had left,
They were ordered to start planting seeds,
To fill up the hole that Sobibor made,
They created a forest of trees.
It’s true that these trees, they may help us to breath,
But the forest was meant to erase,
The seeds, they were planted to cover the ground
To engulf and to bury this place.
The roots of this forest, they rise from the ashes,
Of sisters and fathers and friends.
The roots of this forest don’t hide all its past,
That the Nazis did so hope to cleanse.
The roots of this forest are strong in the ground
The branches, they stretch up so high,
The trees that were planted don’t hide all those souls,
They lift up their lives to the sky.
The roots of this forest run deeper than most
They stretch back not only through time,
But in hate and in death and in bloodshed
A forest was born from a crime.
Charlotte M is a senior from Maryland studying Human Development and Psychological Services and History at Northwestern. She loves to write poetry, especially about her family’s history and the construction of collective memory, and is so honored to be featured in Helicon!
