Dresden, February 13-15, 1945

 he saw dead people
seated awkwardly in their streetcar,
unused destination tickets folded in laps,
forever lost in thought.

there were no secret military codes
littering the basement floor
where more burnt bodies were found
in early February, 1945.

an apartment bedroom became a tomb
when the old stone walls of a cultural center
without glass windows
collapsed under the defenseless German clouds.

it wasn't Slaughter House 5
where most human remains were seen
by those who went looking for answers,
but found only mountains of debris.

at an empty church near a smoking pile of books
where Vonnegut was told to load a small wagon
with a broken-down piano,
he heard a military plane flying low overhead.

nearby, a small group of hungry and frightened people wanted to shout,
but remained speechless, gazing skyward.

soon, they began to weep.