The pines in Jadow rose
between the rows of unseen graves
that sank, took cover
under the earth's dank lid
against desecrators

prospectors for gold took an axe
to the memorial plaque
and hereandthere whiten
gnawed at scraps of tombstones
covered over with moss, softly
like pillows to cushion
invisible heads

how splendidly the pines grew
and hereandthere birches
and the quiet grew
and shadow
of the Jews of Jadow

the pines planted in rows
but the bitches came up all by themselves
like white sprites

and the quit God had sown
in the post-Yeddish forest

                            Jadów 1992