The Anne Frank Tree
Dear diary, I’ve been awoken by the whistling birds.
Now my opened eyes are beginning to lurk,
as they blissfully chirp around our chestnut tree.
Just thinking of words as I inspect the scene.
To express my glee of a wondrous sight.
It sets us free from the thunder at night.
Under the covers we’d hide to weather the storms
from the dozens of fighters checking the floors.
Heading towards us as the panic hits.
Hunting the rest of us all in those frantic blitz
In an annexe in which we’d hide in closets
But it’s a small attic window that provides a solace.
Things I have noticed and was quick to denote.
Supplies a promise with a glimmer of hope.
The gift of a home and omitting one’s sorrow
Living in optimism with the promise of tomorrow – August 3rd 1944
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