Samurai Sword Glassmen
In silence sitting on sills
in buckets and baskets
on beaches and bobbing in bays
treasures, trickets, trash
Japanese fishing net floats
from another era
half a hemisphere away
on turbulent seas
from samurai sword glassmen,
to a life drifting
beneath and above zeroes
sunken ships and skeletons of
Aleutian battle heroes
we all long to find on the shore
a glass bottle with a message
of hope, love, or fortune
but the recycled sake ball
contains only old air
crack one open and for
an instant smell the daphne,
tatami, fresh ramen, or charcoal
trapped an eternity
doomed to never return home
like so many soldiers
on this shattered coastline
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