IN TRIBUTE TO NAPALM
From the sky once so friendly
your flames descend so randomly.
Bright with ember smile eternal
you believe thy source infernal.
No favorites do you play--
young and old, mother and child--all pay
The terrible price of almond eyes
and life lived without lies.
How tight the furrowed flesh
where once the liquid fire did eat
Its frenzied route through frame so fresh
with promise born of love's white heat.
Now all that's left of life divine
are scars and bones hardly so fine.
But then, 'tis no great loss nor blight
to one who died learning freedom is white.
--by T. Jackson King, in Shinjuku Sutra, 1978