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I am writing poems adapting Japanese tsunami news/stories into the first narrative. What I can do as Japanese, I want to tell their amazing stories to English speaking countries. The poem is fictional based on a real event.


Leave the seashore and run up
the hill after the earthquake.

I repeated it
from the steel radio tower.

The seaweed’s garden distorted. I saw
people climbing and washing

overboard like ants. A child was held
in its mother’s arm on the bridge.

They were almost to the hill.

My hand slipped
from the megaphone. I heard
my voice in the sea water.

Like a hundred
other ambiguous bodies,
my face turned clayey.

.....After decades,
clovers grow on the debris. Its dewdrops

glitter under the stardust. The child
walks by the seashore

with its old mother. The bodies still
lie under the soil. The roots

slowly envelope the white bones.

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