Were you there? the trees ask me,
swaying lightly in the cold September breeze.
No, I say, you know that. You were here.
How didn’t you do anything?

The trees shake their heads,
whole bodies quivering as the cloud surrounds us.
What could we do? they murmur,
wind singing through their leaves.

It was here, though, I think, touching them.
Here, right here beneath your feet.
Yours or mine? Both of ours.
Rain is falling – birds are calling

We were there, they whisper.
We didn’t do anything, they admit.
We watched them dragged, we watched them shot.
We watched them fight.

And then? I ask. Then you did what?
Then, they say, we cried.
They shake their heads slowly.
Like we do now. Every day, every time.

Every time what? I just can’t stop.
Every time you come, they reply.
I’ve never been here before, I correct.
No, they say. You were there.

Inspired by Poland