Pigtail


When all the women in the transport
Had their heads shaved
Four workmen with brooms made of birch twigs
Swept up
And gathered up the hair

Behind clean glass
The stiff hair lies
Of those suffocated in gas chambers
There are pins and side combs
In this hair

The hair is not shot through with light
Is not parted by the breeze
Is not touched by any hand
Or rain or lips

In huge chests
Clouds of dry hair
Of those suffocated
And a faded plait
A pigtail with a ribbon
Pulled at school
By naughty boys.


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Pigtail