I was born on February 21, 1942. This poem echoes the thoughts I’ve often had.
December 7, 1941 – Pearl Harbor by Sharon Auberle
I imagine my mother that night, listening to the radio, Glenn Miller’s String of Pearls, Edward R. Murrow wishing the world good night and good luck then breaking news… the bombing of Pearl Harbor. My mother’s hands are folded on the mound that is me, that pulsating cord connecting us. I wonder if I know her fear, feel the tightening, the terror, the anger, suppressed because of the child in her belly. She feels me moving beneath her dress, and thinks of Japanese mothers and their babies soon to be born, as I will be born three months later. I have not yet lived long enough to see world peace. So many never have the chance.