The bust of a former Captain from the Navy
Famous back in occupation days
Is placed and postured so his stoney gaze,
Looks over the edge of a bluff, where maybe
If he could still see, he could watch the waves,
Of Tokyo Bay, which lap against the landfills
Which have long since buried
Yokosuka's beaches... But the verdant hills,
Remain, with an ageless message, carried
By spiders and kudzu vines, who attach
To the Captain's statue, in a slow embrace,
A small signal from nature, which somehow I catch
As I pause to wipe the sweat from my face.
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