How can we recognize luck,
Or grace,
When it’s so hard
To divine the everyday difference
Between a blessing
And a curse?
This man was in Hiroshima
On August 6, 1945,
The worst place to be
In all the world,
Yet survived.
With ruptured eardrums,
And serious burns,
Temporarily blind,
He headed back home,
To Nagasaki.
Fulfilling duty,
And destiny,
Another ordinary day,
He went to work and
Suffered
His second atomic bomb,
Yet survived.
Things just happen.
And we can’t tell
Which is which.
No one whispers
In confidence,
“Just wait -
This is something good.”