Published:August 30th, 2009 15:30 EST

A Poem: Eudora

Eudora

Eudora danced with glee that night.

Her heart was not with us.

She could not see what we all knew

As fortunes crumbled in.

War soon would be upon the world

And deaths-head men would rule.

Our little dancing gypsy troupe

to scatter into never be . . .

And still Eudora danced,

the village men agog,

while Balalaika`s strummed the final chords

a dirge to our last song.

Then we all would lumber on

thru damp, misty, waxing rays

and such fearsome places would we go

as honored guests of Deutschland.

Dachau, Belsen, Auschwitz,

we saw unto the end,

except for Eudora,

who made her sullen way to Spain

and became the errant Queen of Pasa Doble