The One Eighty

I don't know any other way to say it,
but this is like suicide fighters in a war.
—Keiichi Nakagawa,

Limits doubled from normal levels.
Eight times greater exposure in an hour
Than recommended yearly levels.
They still go in.
Hydrogen builds up to the point
Where combustion is inevitable.
They still go in.

Facing an enemy they can’t see,
Can’t smell, can’t fight back against,
Can’t shield themselves from.

They deserve better words than these.
They deserve to be the heroes of Japan.
Red and white flags in their honor,
flowers in the streets,
and memorial songs.

Till Death

I want to be a widower.
I want to be the one
Who puts you in the ground,
And listens to a minister's words
At graveside.
I don't want you to be the one
To see crying children, or grandchildren,
To lean on the shoulder of our oldest son
And drown his shirt with weeping.
I don't want you to face the empty side of the bed
That you were so accustomed to share
For twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years.