Crane Beach
by Chikako Atsuta
You whisper; How are you?
I answer; Good. And I jump
into you. The silence wraps us,
the silence we've been sharing
with earth and water.
We arrive at the beach
by a small boat without a sail
like pilgrim. The dune shines
under the sun. The bushes sit
indifferently here and there.
You step onto the dune
and burn your feet. Each wind
and each rain changes the form
of the dune while nobody notices,
but the bushes would know. We walk
to reach the other side of the dune.
What I can hear is our steps
on the sand and you humming.
I see your burnt back and
two wings. I see your burnt neck.
We come to the top of the dune.
The silvery beach stretches beyond our site.
A man with glasses and beard walks briskly
on the beach reading a book in his hands. (Reading! )
My skin, my hair, my water, every part of
me is under sun without any covers
trusting. I am free
finally.
Your eyes catch
my wings opening.
Chikako Atsuta was born in Osaka, Japan. After graduating from college in Tokyo, she worked there as a newspaper writer for ten years. Seeking to escape the hectic life of a journalist, she moved to Wellfleet, Massachusetts with her American husband in late 1996. But soon after, the marriage collapsed, and she moved to Gloucester alone and found joy in writing personal essays and poems in English (she cannot write anything personal in Japanese). Today, Chikako earns her living in the Internet industry, and continues to write poems and publishes personal essays on a web magazine. Her poem appeared in Lifeboat Journal. She currently lives in Boston.
Email Chikako at catsuta@yahoo.com
Visit Chikako's web site: Talk to Ako
Posted April 25, 2004 04:08 PM