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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 stories to English speaking countries. The poem is fictional based on a real event.


I ask my mother
to live with me in America.
She says, I will stay with your brother.

He is a police officer. He patrols
within 30km around
the Fukushima nuclear plant

and breathes in and out
in the late spring air; purple
crocuses, pansies, and

invisible radioactive particles…
Over the phone, she continues,
You have your life in America and

I have my life in Japan. I hear
pacific waves from the phone receiver.
My six-year-old son makes

an origami crane. He learned
that thousands of origami
cranes bring happiness and

peace from my mother last summer.
His little hands fold the blue
paper. I choose orange

paper. The sunset softly
shines through the thin curtain. Shadows
of two hands are on the origami

papers. The cranes sink
in the sepia colored table. Suddenly
I hear a noise

from my son and my stomach. I turn
on the kitchen light and open
the refrigerator. He carries me an apron.

The origami cranes migrate from the window.

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