Beside a school I paused one day
and watched some children run and play.
We were curious. I know that’s true.
Their eyes were dark and mine were blue.
I braked my bike and watched them there.
I saw them eye my pale blond hair.
They looked at me, and I at them. So why
were we so silent: mute and shy?
I smiled before I rode away
but never met Koichi Seii
until so many years went by
that he was gray-haired; so was I.
I’d lived in his country, then.
And now he’d moved to mine, so when
we met (his name was Allen now),
we mused and pondered how
from our horizons we had viewed
a war begin, a war conclude.
We were young. We were alike.
Boy in a schoolyard. Girl on a bike.