Nagasaki Turnip

The grinning turnip pulls itself
from the irradiated earth
in a field on the outskirts of Nagasaki.
Its crustacean limbs claw dirt—
search for purchase.

If it had eyes to see
the wasteland of ash
spread out as far as eyes might see
in 360 degrees,
its mischievous smirk might shrivel
into an uncomprehending pucker
of confusion: what queer reality is this?

Abandoned footwear litters the landscape
below stilled shadows it dumps debris
from a pair of stylish suede riding boots.
It drifts in bipedal forms
before continuing an oblivious journey
toward oblivion.

Turnip pots oddly-arranged toes into each shoe,
takes root amidst discarded nutrient dust—
clicks new heels, teaches itself
to whistle and walk toward water.