Fukushima

Robert René Galván

A ring of white pagodas 
Where the land meets the sea, 
Unwisely poised upon a fracture, 
Feeds a city of light 
From dimensions  
We can barely perceive, 
But the earth shudders, 
Folds the vast waters 
Into an angry arch 
With such force that it shifts 
On its spine, 
The island plunged 
Into darkness, 
And at once 
Thousands lost. 
When the flood recedes 
A single tree stands 
Near the cracked domes, 
The village, a habitation 
Of wild boar 
And feral cats, 
A cascade of atoms 
Bleeds into the tide. 
The catastrophe  
Seems so distant 
From our shore, 
But years pass, 
The rift still rent, 
Toxic spores migrate 
With the current, 
Disrupt acidic gyres, 
Unwind into warped 
Butterflies, 
And dolphins marooned 
On the sand.

The Science

When I was a child, we anxiously awaited World Book’s annual Yearbook, an update in the pre-internet era. One such tome featured a schematic of a nuclear reactor in layered plastic pages, from the concrete dome to the reactor core. We learned how nuclear fission created high temperatures which drove steam turbines to produce electricity. The article extolled the promise of clean energy versus the dependency on fossil fuels but also mentioned that spent fuel rods were highly radioactive and had to be stored in salt mines where they would degrade over several centuries. It has been fifteen years since the Fukushima disaster and the clean-up continues with “treated water” being poured into the Pacific Ocean.  The surrounding area remains uninhabitable and some sixty radioactive substances have been found in wastewater, including Strontium 90 and Cesium 137 which when spread by the ocean currents prove harmful to marine, terrestrial life and human health. Truly, the ultimate form of pollution. 

The Poet

Robert René Galván, born in San Antonio, resides in New York City where he works as a professional musician and poet. His collections of poems are Meteors, published by Lux Nova Press and Undesirable: Race and Remembrance, Somos en Escrito Foundation Press, Standing Stones, Finishing Line Press and The Shadow of Time, Adelaide Books. His poems have appeared in international journals and have been nominated for Best of Web and the Pushcart Prize. His book Vaqueros and other Poems (manuscript) was a finalist in the Poetic Justice Institute Editor’s Prize in 2025.

Next poem: if not for the persistent car noises that I hate by Alec H Clark