in the kitchen
gurgling of gravy in pan
tempting
winds blow still
can not douse the
embers
so many tread
on burnt ashes
still
Hiroshima
another rework
is
far off
in the face of
defacement, hope is
flowering up
traces of inhuman
on the corridor
even now
Hiroshima
crumbling walls the
babe
hears from womb
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