tankas for a buried town

i.

wounds of lost train tracks
burnt into indifferent green –
here, fall into the
yawning mouth of a lake that
holds ancestors lost to grief

ii.

climb the fence between
white bodies and ours, observe
the cedar post that
stands for us—seirei to—in
a town afraid to forget

iii.

find arteries of
survival in the tofu
factory, ice rink
turned mess hall—Canadian
hospitality in bloom

iv.

we are your stories,
whistling through scant cracks in these
hakujin houses
built with the stripped lumber of
our family’s second exile

v.

when we step into
the only diner for miles,
they know why we have
come, and we know we’ll never
find the words we’re looking for