adding tears to the snow of Hiroshima
what's a hero. . . asked the child at her father's funeral
another war-- unblemished snow on your grave
another winter. . . yet your death is as fresh as this morning's snow
waving to her son-- was it as cold on the day her husband left
crunch of snow-- soldiers at her door again
bitter chill-- she whispers to the grave son...you are a hero
Toshiro Takeshita
Japan