They stand arching their necks
Silent and motionless in the morning sun.
Elegant beings, white feathers fluttering
Statuesque in their simple forms.

 

Fold a thousand origami cranes
Japanese legend says
And your wish will be granted
Your thousand acts will touch a soul.

 

In the days after our Hiroshima
A thousand cranes were folded for our dead.
From across the globe they traveled
Elegant objects to heal our souls.

 

The cranes stand as if poised for flight
A multitude ready to take action.
We have given them names:
Testa, Cruz, Bauer, Essex, Liebherr.

 

The wetlands they inhabit, a water soaked pit.
They hunt no fish or wildlife
Their existence uplifts no soul,
Only steel and cement boulders.

                            (c) 2007 Leona M Seufert