At low tide   the heron of Hiroshima
look blissfully suicidal.

Heron? Egret? Crane?

shadows
over buildings  

rice fields  
into mountains

where faces are insinuated
beneath wilderness   fallen

people   when
the tide is low

floating   to the floating
shrine

are everywhere
setting.


I stop at the rest house to take a break
and reflect on what I have seen

certain kinds of snacks and cakes
a brochure of a train
disappears