Still #2

70 years cranes s

“It doesn’t make a damned bit of difference who wins the war to someone who’s dead.”
― Joseph Heller

“And a step backward, after making a wrong turn, is a step in the right direction.”
–Kurt Vonnegut

crane 2s

August 6 marks the 76th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, which was followed by the bombing of Nagasaki on August 9—the only time nuclear weapons have been used in war.

Between 130,000 and 230,000 people were killed, mostly civilians.  Many of those who survived the bombing itself were stricken with radiation sickness and died painful and premature deaths.

The story of 12-year-old Sadako Sasaki’s attempt to make 1000 origami cranes after falling ill with leukemia turned the Japanese Crane, long a symbol of immortality, into a symbol of the wish for nuclear disarmament and world peace.

There are currently less than 1800 Japanese cranes surviving in the wild, for the usual human reasons—loss of habitat and food sources, pollution and poisioning, poaching, disease.

And so it goes…

burning floods
birds singing silent
ash and bones

cranes s

For Frank’s haibun prompt at dVerse, August. I’ve written about this in August and used these images several times before.

 This is our cry.
This is our prayer.
Peace in the world.

–inscription on the Children’s Peace Monument in Hiroshima
http://www.nippon.com/en/images/k00009/

crane 5s

Sadako Sasaki was a toddler living in Hiroshima when it was bombed by the United States.  Ten years later she died as a result of leukemia, “the atomic bomb disease.”  If you don’t know the story of Sadako and the 1000 Cranes, you can read about it here:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sadako_and_the_Thousand_Paper_Cranes

70 years close up 1s

August Moon

sturgeon moon s

night wears luminous
scales—I feel its pulses through
invisible nets

time resolves into kinship–
everything opened, laid bare

what has been follows
like a shadow, until it
too is discarded

stitched into shining patterns
ancient and always brand new

A double tanka in honor of August’s Sturgeon Moon for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words, light and dark, and Frank Tassone’s #HaikiChallenge.  Also called the Red Moon, perhaps the sky will clear enough tonight so I can see it.

As many have noted, the sturgeon is an ancient and endangered species.  I was please to find we have our own Hudson River sturgeons, still hanging on.  Fishing for them was banned in 1996.

 

August (2019)

autumn 2019 grid s

Is it the sky I seize when my hand reaches out to touch the storm of rain? Or do the heavens remain behind the veil, rainbowed and unclouded, waiting for the thunderings of the gods to echo into quietude as they follow the flashes of light to the edge of the horizon?

Everything around me is covered with drops of liquid light.

Gaia, drunk with the season’s retreat, builds an improvised framework out of the movements of the moon.

I look for the line
between now and again, where
flower becomes seed–

All is stillness, dense, restless–
leaves shiver, rattled by wind.

A haibun for my August grid, using the prompt words clear and nature from Colleen’s #TankaTuesday.  Last night’s thunderstorm seemed to be straddling seasons.  Two of Jane Dougherty’s recent poems, “Damp Morning” and “Stories” are similar in feeling.

august grid close up s

The grid and poem started out in the same general area but were revised in different directions I think.  Well, my drawing teachers always emphasized the importance of contrast in art–what isn’t there being as necessary as what is.  It’s up to the reader/watcher to fill in the blanks with what they need.