The opening verses of James Kirkup's poem, 'White Shadows', about a photograph of the white shadow left by a man annihilated in the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. Nagasaki suffered a second atomic attack three days later. White Shadows It was another morning, another morning. A morning like any other, of dust and death. A morning of war: raids, speeches, warnings. In wartime, all mornings are alike. Your were crossing a bridge in Hiroshima, A bridge of plain cement, a place without mystery. Below, the grey river ran as always, going somewhere, Metalled and moved by the early summer sun. The sun, that cast your shadow clearly, a healthy black. It was the shadow of a complete man, someone With a life, a personality, a past: but Moving through a present that could have no future. What were you thinking? Were you feared, hated, loved? Were you late for work? Sad or sick? Artist, student? Photographer or newsman returning home after a night...