Inland Sea

When leaving the quiet, pine clad islet
where we’d rested overnight at an inn,
we walked down the shoreline trail to
a landing dock and waiting boat -­-
glimpsed through the trees — while
averting our eyes from the sun just
rising over the intensely sparkling
surface of fragrant salt water, and
we needed to be extra attentive on
our way, so as not to be stepping
inadvertently upon any of the many
plump caterpillars crawling in their
oddly humping manner across the path
matted with dried tree needles and
strewn with fallen cones, and then
later that day, after entering the
metropolitan center of Hiroshima,

we came to a solemn standstill,
facing a polished granite stone
indicating Ground Zero where -­-
with a fierce flash overhead —
­the fireball of an atomic bomb

unleashed its lethal energies
upon a civilian population.