Archive of New Mexico Poetry – Sumiko Hamlow

Triangle Sky

Like an endless howl
of a wounded beast
in the darkest cave,
the air raid siren
rose in the humid air.

A single candle flickering
against shelter’s dirt wall,
Sound of B-29s
falling from the trap door above.
Thin triangle of blue sky.

Distant from point J,
distant from point A
the two lines extend far,
drawing a thin triangle.
From the apex, lonely view.

Held between two thoughts
two languages, two times
my weight is in the balance
on the pivot, shard of sky
imprinted on a child’s retina.

About the Poet
This poem was originally published in The Tanaka Journal, 1998 No. 12. Sumiko Hamlow was born in Tokoyo, Japan and has lived in the Southwest for the past twenty years. She writes poetry and prose in both Japanese and English. Her works appear regularly in the Kohan Tankakai, Tama Kajin and Tanka Journal. She also translates Japanese poetry. She won the Bevery Prize of the International Tanka Contest in Japan for English Tanka as well as other awards in international and Japanese competitions.