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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 want to eat a daikon-
radish with a bowl of steamed
rice. Chips in plastic bags,

tuna cans, and add water
to instant food, I eat them on a thin
mattress on the cold floor of the shelter.

Home is calling me. Tulips

bloom in the garden. Cherry
blossoms are inkblot-pink
on a natane-rainy

day. I want to walk in the rain
without my yellow umbrella;

white little petals, a sweet

smelling daphne, blue-purple
morning dew drops on young leaves…

I sing an old Japanese
spring song to my unborn child.
I am sorry—I cannot promise you spring.

I close my eyes.

A child wears a hat. Sprouts
grow like a piano

phrase note. I hold
my hands. I keep singing

the song. I feel

sleet on my cheeks.

Natane-rainy day is a rainy day in spring.

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