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Showing posts from August, 2011

Spillway

"The First Night" was accepted by Spillway.
The editor is Susan Terris.

***
THE FIRST NIGHT
after the tsunami on 3/11/2011

1.
A little yellow shoe drifted away. I
clasped my hands around a tree
trunk & smelled the endless

water desert.

2.
When I was eight years old, I squatted
down in a futon-closet & waited
for my mother. My aunt opened
the closet with wheat bread

& eight boiled eggs.

3.
Dear Mother,
Did you escape the land of sudden

death?

4.
I waved my hands to the silver
whistles of a helicopter in the morning
sky. It dropped a rope like a spider

thread three miles away from my tree.

Yes!

Today is the happiest day in my life! Congratulations for my death-metal hubby.

Surprised Gift from Indiana

Necklace made by a.g.

Hybrid of Three Previous Poems

I conbined "Tokyo Water," "Green Wall," & "Fukushima Spring" and created a new poem. Thank you for the idea, Charmi & DDL.

***
TOKYO WATER
after fukushima

1.
Sprouts absorb droplets. Tadpoles
plop their black tails. I felt

a kick in my womb.

2.
No nuclear plants;
we want to birth healthy children…

Japanese women march behind a wall of camphor trees.

3.
You come back with bleach. I hate
the lemon fragrance.

God doesn’t help me…

The smell of laundry detergent blows from a vent.

4.
The breeze & rain cause no harm,
But children must drink bottled water,

the Japanese meteorologist said. No

water is left in the supermarkets.

5.
I break egg
shells and cook a pea omelet. Your finger

slowly drags

down my spine.
I smell the bleach on it,.....throw

the omelet at the floor.

The green peas roll between us.

6.
The kitchen light is turned off. Beaded

Tokyo water trickles into the drain.

South Bend

Late Summer Reading List