for help when they barged
through the door
with their G-strings
and sweat grins.
He’d said if there ever
was trouble with soldiers
to call him -
he’d help us
four sisters.
They stood in their bare feet
tight holding their knives -
looking round
at the rooms
and the pictures.
He strode in
and scolded them
blushing in nakedness
chasing them out
with his voice.
And posted a note
on our door
in his writing
we knew not the words
but they spared us.
Each time we passed through
the front door
on the right
we remembered the man
for his witness.
He had come
to help salve
in a time of destruction
but wounds that cut deep
were imprinted.
We ran to the doctor’s
for help when they barged -
now his family
from Kyoto
still write to us.
(c) Charlene Rajendran 1999
