June Kino Cullen
World War II For my grandmother, Akiko Utsunomiya, Japan Past midnight she hears boots crunch against gravel, then a soft knock. She rises out of bed, opens the door. Hiroshi, is that you? Summer breeze strokes her face. Alone in the garden, she rests on a rock, hears the swing creak. Morning brings a telegram from Burma: Your son, Hiroshi Mahiko, killed in action.