We walked there unsuspecting
Always rather ignorant
But the sun shone, and the walls were warm.
Who visits? So obscure. No tourists around!
As I say it was warm and the walls were a sweet pink – a dream home
With an iron cauldron, beautiful pots, and memories of old towns.
We were alone and unaware, so happy without the crowds.
Suddenly there were photographs
Crooked on the wall.
And thus, we became voyeurs.
I took photos to be sure of what I had seen.
Their history is our history for everywhere it happens.
Everywhere the cruel and the compliant relish such brutality.