Gasthof

I am 63 a guest
In the home of my
Brother’s friends who
Are both classical musicians
Living in a house near a WW2
Nazi SS training camp in the Harz
Mountains in Germany in a tiny
Village where no TV turns the
Small children into delightful
Packs of feral playmates
Learning to play having
Fun when the couple’s
Four year old little
Girl runs into the
Living room and
Her mother tells
Her to wash up
For lunch to
Which the
Four year
Old gives
Her mother
A Nazi salute
Saying jawohl!
Her mother who
Is German looks at
Me saying where do
Children learn such rude
Gestures but the truth is much
Deeper revealing an inoperable
Cancer not just in German society
But in all humans who as a species
Find war alluring despite it being a
Slice of hell on earth too terrible
To imagine too horrifying to
Ever accurately portray in
Cinema pictures but only
In a few books unread
By those most likely
To endure what is
Best unthinkable
By those of us
Civilians safe
From the
Butcher’s shop
Of war which passes
Through my mind as I
Stand in the genteel home
Which is for a second a
Gassed house where
Guests never over
Stay their host’s
Welcome, then
We both laugh
At our mutual
Discomfort
At her tiny
Little girl’s
Honesty.