Japanese Style

Again, I'm posting some old poetry of mine that fits well. I try to go back over old poetry every now and again to revise and also to remember the feeling I once felt. This way, I don't lose the experience.


Nagasaki Peace Park

Nothing I wear is clean
and there’s a traveler’s load on my back
of the shoes, clothes, and masks I must carry.
Here, too, I thought to bear the weight of peace,
to be handed the sky, the one that fell long ago.
I imagined my own weakness beside perfect statues,
or that my reflection might stir the still waters.

But here, instead, schoolchildren listen,
while shade stretches out beside the benches.
Sitting there, even I am allowed to rest and feel light.
You see, there are wings here to lift us;
two golden cranes perch beside the statues
and the spray from the wing-shaped fountain drifts
into my beating chest.

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Crosswalk

A dull drum signals,
like a heart, shocked and breathing,
the passage of roads.

A cluster of red hearts cross,
whose heartbeats mimic footsteps.

Strewn red leaves crumble,
autumn being left bare-branched,
beneath the slack steps.

Call it freedom or chaos.
but green light opens all paths.

Though spring melts old snow
to birth supple and green leaves,
it also melts snow.

Something pure is left broken
as the center stage empties.

Was someone untouched?
Most were strangers, yet eyes roamed
and hands swayed in time.

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Peach Tree Sky

“I buy a peach at the fruit store.”
“I eat a peach, therefore I am happy.”

I practiced these simple sentences,
trying to learn the Japanese structure.
But some things are easier seen than spoken.

Coming home on a foreign subway train,
we emerged from the ground
like earthworms after rain
under the departing clouds.

To the south, beyond the rice fields,
webbed strands of mist clung to the mountains:
children crying to their fathers
at the end of a one more day.

A stranger beside me was crying too,
though I knew neither language nor custom to comfort him.
I looked away into the west to find my sunset:
a peach tree sky I wished he could see.

Gray clouds shaped the thin branches,
while the sun became the day’s fruit.

Who knew? This peach cannot be bought,
but it can be found in unexpected places.