Ruins Rise
bone like trees line streets of Hiroshima
sentinels, scratching the sky,
winter clipped memories ...
life from death arose
springing eternally up
rooting ever down
often bubbling forth from ruins
shadowing the beggar’s bride
who spits on the graves
but mad men dance and war on
bone tree remind us
*kimo, tanka, senryu
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2013
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