Monday, March 4, 2019

The Blue Marble


I walked slowly across the empty landscape
my head bent low,  deep in thought
here I stand in the long empty Camp
struggling to understand what happened

an internment camp filled with thousands
of Japanese American prisoners,
a school, a store, a post office
and the remains of a dozen guard stations

now only slabs of cement,
piles of blackened charcoal
pushed to the edges of each carefully numbered block
the ground now covered with nails

The entire Topaz Interment Camp
razed, pushed from sight and memory
hidden from guilt, far from town,
far from their homes,
now tucked in tight neat rows.

they lived with little to bring comfort
barren of life as they knew it.
so little to remind them of who they were
of what they had been

Shards of a broken plate with a delicate design
imprinted on one side
a rusty chimney pipe stranded
all swept clean in the desert winds

It was here that I found a single blue marble
sitting on the edge of an ant pile.
I picked it up and wiped it clean.


I rolled it over and over in my hand.
I carried it for a time,
in my thoughts I saw a little girl
playing with her single toy.

cramped in tight quarters
so little of what once was carefree.
Those dark eyes and shiny black hair
punctuated the differences
that threatened innocence

a mother, a father not able to supply daily needs
brothers off to war to prove allegiance
to the flag that now flew above the camp
that held them captive

This camp though tight and fearful
was made home by a single beautiful plate,
by art created from so little.
reminders of what they had been

school teams organized and played
by these Americans far from town-
looked at suspiciously and pushed
to the distant desert, exiled

This idea so wrong,
 the penalty so severe
erased by bulldozers and fire
left to fade from memory

this camp named for a gemstone
slowly formed by heat and time
I saw them here in my mind
walking proudly, playing skillfully,
eating, laughing, learning, shining.

I cannot forget them
my emotions rise as I quietly return the blue marble
held sacred in my hands, cradled for a time
as this camp held them,
it became hallowed

I remember