Christmas Island

Mike Bell/ May 25, 2020/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

Their trams still ran [in
Hiroshima] – among all
of their loss of 1945+/
As if precise modes of
public transport would
[still] rotate in a flawed
country like ours/ Time
has moved for Britain’s
schedulers ever since –
since a bomb dropped
on Christmas/ One-nil/
We twitched – us kids/
We saw a darkness [of
life] sat outside a bank
[a shock – of imprecise
truths – of hitokage no
ishihi]/ There are grim
shadows on our maps
of cooled off craters &
green atolls/ As kids it
was a joy to ride trams
in Manchester – delays
forgiven – never forgot

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