To Japan.

(not my image above, found it after writing this and it gave me a similar visual to the poem itself)

Fukushima Daiichi

red tears weave their way to the center

of white cloth; attracted by seismic pull.

a circle is born: round rouge, emboldened

with thought of water, of torrent,

of rubble rinsed in layers of salt, of

an island of silenced hands stretched out

across dark ocean overflow.