by Lyn Lifshin
patterns of kimonos
burned on some women
on the 12th day
wounds began to
open wider. Women
saw their hair fall
out. Someone with
out eyes calling for
a sister. Purple
sores. Some couldn’t
be touched, their skin
fell off in glove-like
pieces. By the 20th day,
vegetation began to grow
wildly, lush green weeds,
huge wild flowers. As
people died, the cities
were blanketed with
flowers
This poem appeared in Shō Number 2 (2003)