Poetry

Fascism wears a red shirt
in the woods,
no one
expects photographs
with a revelation,
only hear-say or rumors
from still cries
as in the crematoriums
or in the Gulag;
we read now
in school or in the news
about the Hitler-Stalin pact,
when
truth died 
in the Katyn Forest
there was only silence
for decades
of expressionless faces
with decrees of death
still being ordered
by the wolf man
in the Kremlin 
until he departs
unannounced
for Hades.