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Three Poems

Three Poems M A K I M I N A T O T O K U Z Ö the well Crossing a battlefield in single file, A woman leads a child and an old farmer. In the lead-gray light before dawn, The weedy grasses are silvered by dew. Empty tin buckets swing on the ends Of the pole the old man carries across His shoulders. This quiet May morning! Around them, defeated soldiers squat On the beach, under the poor shade of palms, Under rock ledges. Their eyes are glazed, Their canteens dangle from their shoulder clips. On a hardscrabble trail toward a palm grove, In the lead-gray mist before dawn, The three--this quiet May morning! --begin running in desperation, Exposed to enemy gunfire, For the grove beyond the open field. This quiet May morning. At the grove's edge is a well In the limestone, and a cave so dark, Sunlight reaches it bent and broken. Inside the cave the terrified people Huddle together, dip their cups in the well, Whispering to one another Like the sounds of water dripping. Higa Yasuo: Maternal Deities Divine Women (Kami-nchu) Miyako Island, Karimata 1995 If a bomb kills everyone here, the water Will http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Three Poems

Manoa , Volume 23 (1) – Jun 29, 2011

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © University of Hawai'I Press
ISSN
1527-943x
Publisher site
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Abstract

M A K I M I N A T O T O K U Z Ö the well Crossing a battlefield in single file, A woman leads a child and an old farmer. In the lead-gray light before dawn, The weedy grasses are silvered by dew. Empty tin buckets swing on the ends Of the pole the old man carries across His shoulders. This quiet May morning! Around them, defeated soldiers squat On the beach, under the poor shade of palms, Under rock ledges. Their eyes are glazed, Their canteens dangle from their shoulder clips. On a hardscrabble trail toward a palm grove, In the lead-gray mist before dawn, The three--this quiet May morning! --begin running in desperation, Exposed to enemy gunfire, For the grove beyond the open field. This quiet May morning. At the grove's edge is a well In the limestone, and a cave so dark, Sunlight reaches it bent and broken. Inside the cave the terrified people Huddle together, dip their cups in the well, Whispering to one another Like the sounds of water dripping. Higa Yasuo: Maternal Deities Divine Women (Kami-nchu) Miyako Island, Karimata 1995 If a bomb kills everyone here, the water Will

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Jun 29, 2011

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