In my first book of poetry, WANDERLUST: Poems of a Cross Cultural Journey
(1996 copyright) showcases a poem on my visit to Berlin in 1961. My people
and I visited on a drizzly day to East Berlin, by underground railway. We had a
guide. And how shocking compared to West Berlin, thriving, smiling faces, good
restaurants. The contrast felt shaken crumbling buildings and blank-faced denizens.
A Russian guard, pocked faced, monitored our visit at that time. Peace Flowers
depicts the return underground to West Berlin from East Berlin, the day in August
1961 when the wall went up. On that train were women, I recall, in long nondescript
coats, in the warm weather, with not suitcases, but cloth wrapped goods and
valuables, accompanied by their sons. The father perhaps had been killed or
disappeared. — WANDERLUST poems by author. Today the Berlin Wall fell
“Tear down that wall.” Remember the Brandenburg Gate.