I gazed at the rain and wondered
if black rain had ever fallen before. . . .
~ Akihiro Takahashi
If it's raining, you must not see
the glint shattering, the cloud
stuttering its tears all over Hiroshima,
not like April's cherry blossoms,
unlike May's unripened plums. Black:
more like the traces of the silhouettes
you will never erase in August
heat, that water will not cleanse.
A conqueror's tail of fire burned
heaven — unexpected — into earth,
the pink of morning blush igniting
and ever spreading out. For miles
along the river's edge, air stilled.
© 2012 Maureen E. Doallas
The inspiration for my poem comes from a post I wrote in 2009: "Give Back the Human".
The theme at TweetSpeakPoetry this month is "rain".