I.

above recycling bins
tsunami news
lines the finch's nest

one cannot make
out the words

as if a bird would—
as if a bird could—
even care

but I know the stories
are there—amidst the mud

even if outdated
no longer shocking
or updating us

strangers—they are still
there amidst the mud and I

too have reworked them
into someplace I can live
with myself


II.

I may have read stories
of the Japanese earthquake

years ago and safe
at home—my hands
warmed by a tea mug

heart—but I only presume
the truth of survivors

guilt like a waxy pearl
deep in the crux
of each oyster

how I was stricken
but didn't see for myself

how I built my house
around a tree trunk
instead of cutting it

how I reasoned there
was no need