Tsukuru_nonbinary

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day 29 of my personal commemoration of the 1945 nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki this untitled poem is by Tomoko Sato, a fifth grader at the time of the writing Yoshiko resting with burns said she wanted to eat tomatoes while mother was away shopping Yoshiko passed away "Feeding her just potatoes ended up killing her," mother cried. I cried too. Everyone also cried. #nomorewar #nonukes #nagasaki #hiroshima #poemsbysurvivors

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Let all the souls here rest in peace, for we shall not repeat the evil. #poemsbysurvivors #hiroshima #abomb #nonukes #nomorewar

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day 30 of my personal commemoration of the 1945 nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki today's poem is The Sky of Hiroshima by Sachiko Hayashi, a Hiroshima survivor, 23 years old at the time of writing The Sky of Hiroshima Sachiko Hayashi I slept outdoors overnight and when I finally reached the evacuation site, only my Dad was there. "Mom and Yuu-chan died." The August sun reflecting on the Yahata River flowing in front drowned out the sound of Dad and me weeping The very next day Dad with an empty candy box in his hands I, carrying a hoe, we trudgingly made our way to the burnt ruins of Hiroshima. when we finally arrived in Hiroshima, the air was thick with the smell of burning corpses. it smelled like grilled saury. totteringly we crossed a smoldering iron bridge, my Dad and I. more dead bodies than the day before exposed to the intense heat of midsummer spilling out of the bloated bodies, entrails, coiled intestines making a faint sound a dark yellowish liquid from the nose, the mouth, the ears, and the eyes, melting and flowing away. Look, over there is the stone wall of the storehouse. the ruins of my home, bringing back fond memories, burning pieces of wood floating in the well Where the kitchen used to be, in a cooking pot on the ground scorched pieces of pumpkin substitutes that we ate on the morning of the 6th, shards of rice bowls scattered about When I drive a hoe into the roof tiles, the hoe bounces back. squatting over the roof tiles, Dad began pushing them aside with his hands. exhausted, Dad pointed with a faint voice. I threw down the hoe and dug into the spot, the roof tiles, heated in the sun. silently, Dad and I, digging intently Ah, it's Mom's bones Ah, when I give Mom's bones a tight squeeze, the white powder dances in the wind. when I put Mom's bones in my mouth, it tastes forlorn. Unbearable sorrows overcome Dad and I, who are left behind. While crying in a loud voice, the two of us pick up the bones. The bones in the candy box make a rustling sound. My brother, right beside Mom, has half-turned to bones with his insides not completely burned away lay there A clump of bedding stuck to his insides. "I want to die!" Dad, screaming, cradled my brother's internal organs and wept. Iron pipes jutted up from the charred ruins, water spurting up like a fountain, like the last living thing survived at that moment, basking in the sunlight I poured some water in a cracked tea cup and placed in front of my brother's internal organs. Dad took out the hardtack (dried crackers) from the rations. I close my eyes tightly. Dad, while listening to the screams of the two of them, buried alive, could do nothing. Some time after that, on Dad's unscarred body, spots started to appear and spread. Dad, with no hope left to live for, nevertheless, pitying me who will be left behind, forces down food that he does not help even want. "I want to eat some grapes." "You'll have to make do with a cucumber " It was the morning of September 1st, I squeezed a cucumber, added some sugar, and made juice. "It feels like I've come back to life," Dad remarked, looked at me, and laughed. But his voice was weak and feeble, as if weeping. Suddenly, Dad, gazing into the void, and said, "The wind is fierce. A storm is coming. A storm is coming " He let out a long breath. Just like that, he collapsed and moved no more. In less than a month after the bombing, I've ended up all alone. After shedding all the tears, my body, void of an aim, stares at the river flowing in front and the beautifully clear, sunny blue sky of Hiroshima. #nomorewar #nonukes #hiroshima #nagasaki #poems