Poem: Hiroshima Shadow

 

Hiroshima Shadow

 

i am what i not am,

inconsequential

as an ant that ate

the last seed.

 

before i could make good,

i looked up at the sky.

it was the first

and last thing my lack-of-body

would ever do.

 

i am not known

to have a name, but it

will be said in the future

that i was prophesied,

one of the first burnt.

 

no one

 

has any idea what my mother

looked like, or whether

by some fluke she

smiled during my fast birth,

or even had bones.

 

for my mother

sat exactly where i

am sitting and turned

her body just so,

in the very same way;

 

and then there was no

flesh to beget flesh,

no heart to love

or give happiness to

a lack-of-child:

 

i just was.

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This poem was originally published in Vine Leaves in 2013.  As the war-hungry Trump sows rage in chaos across the world, I am trying to collect my work, I guess a statement to the universe, in art and ethics.  As I always say, though it is always true, it could all end soon.