Endurance, 1946
Unaware of the day’s movements, she paints her
reply to the bracelet of light flaring above
the horizon. Tomorrow’s edict is gather,
as in retrieving a sister’s bones in black
rain, reassembling in thought
a smile that could not endure despite
its beauty. I seek a place
of nourishment and find empty bowls.
What is the symbol for peace, for planet?
How do we relinquish the incinerated voice?
Under the vault of ribs lie exiled words, more
bones, and beneath them, relentless darkness.
And whose bodies mingle in this earth?
Whose tongue withers from disuse?
The eight muscles react to separate stimuli,
four to change shape and four to alter position.
Turning, she places the brush on the sill
and opens the window to the breeze.
Exit the light, exit all prayer. Ten strokes
form breath. She does not taste the wind.
“Endurance, 1946” first appeared here in January 2015.
O at the Edges 
Beautiful poem for Hiroshima. I went there once along with some Shingon monks to pray for world peace. You can still feel the dark psychic energy lingering in the ether, no matter how sunny it is.
On a happier note it is the home of Hiroshimayaki, a form of okonomiyaki ( a kind of cabbage-y pancake thing) which includes squid and cheese. It is THE best okonomiyaki of all time, and the best place to find it is at the Shinkansen station (Bullet Train). Oh…I am drooling for some squid- cheese Hiroshimayaki right now! おおおおおいしい!!!!!!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Hmm. Hiroshimayaki. Might have to attempt making okonomiyaki.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A thoughtful elegy.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Merril.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A beautiful piece; I lingered on every line.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thanks, Diana.
LikeLiked by 1 person
good
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks very much.
LikeLike
I echo Diana’s thoughts. Every line. Word even. This is a beauty Robert.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Ah, Chris, you are so kind. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! How do we relinquish the incinerated voice. Beautiful
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A powerfully beautiful poem about the tragedy of Hiroshima, and all wars.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Carmel.
LikeLike
Beautifully poignant, and I felt a great depth of lasting sadness.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Ivor. It pains me to hear rationalizations for dropping the bombs. As Carolyn Forche said, there is nothing one man will not do to another. I wish it were not so.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sobering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sobering times! Both then and today.
LikeLiked by 1 person