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Sachsenhausen in the spring
Easter leaves plastic eggs hanging on the trees
little spurts of colour against the
grey leafless branches
but
the flowers are already blooming
with passion against the
grey solemn walls—
do they remember?
is this defiance?
where were the flowers then
she wondered
now
from the living room window
she can see the field
brightly stained with the colour
of former lives
