If Fuji Could Talk She'd Scream

George Weslow


Fuji to the North,
Dagger to the West,
Feather to the South,
And cedars to the East.

The impact zone
For the big guns to play,
Is lined with targets
For direct fire today.

The fog is lifting
And Fuji is looking down,
With a nasty sneer
At the guns on her sacred ground.

Invaders of her Queendom
Weapons of war,
She wishes for the power
To silence them evermore.

Many years have passed
Since they've invaded her land,
But she remembers Hiroshima
And the hated American.

Memory is very clear to her
As she turns back the years,
And what she's always expected
Has confirmed her fears.

As she silently towers
Over the weapons below,
She peers down helplessly
At their deathly glow.

The Howitzers are firing now
And the noise is immense,
Messengers of death
In every sense.

If Fuji could talk
She'd be screaming loud,
But she can only stand there
Beaten, but proud.

She doesn't know
And she wouldn't understand,
That we're not here to war
On her beloved homeland.

She only remembers
The heartbreak before,
Hiroshima, Nagasaki
And the sounds of war.

And her tortured memory
Comes quickly alive,
With the bitter recollection
Of the summer of '45.


Published @ COVE

April 2022