Tired eyes shut in deep slumber
Glass beads wound
Around clasped hands
I dare not disturb her peace
The flickering light
Of mourning candles
Bring back memories
Of cold gray mornings
Apo baket keeping watch
Beside the three-stone hearth
Inabel blanket wrapped
Around her bony frame
I catch a whiff
Of her nicotine breath
As she massages my scalp
With coconut oil
I hear her cuss
As I flinch and resist
The ruthless suyod
That she runs across my head
The cicadas are quiet now
And the sampaguitas
Are dreaming
Their fragrant dreams
I lift her wizened hand
To my forehead
And pray
Her ancient prayers
Madrugada
the fragrant darkness
of your thick hair
frames
your tranquil face
the supple skin
of your bare back
bears
marks from the mat
on which you lie
the warmth
of your breath
ascends
with the heaving
of your breasts
dawn moist
with anticipation
rises
between your legs
El amante
Standing under a tree
Surveying the land
Now bathed in yellow light
As the sun bids
The sturdy green shoots
Farewell
He hesitates
To leave
Scratching the caked mud
On his foot
That rests on a mound
Of cold earth
He hears the croaking of a frog
And the distant crowing
Of a bird in flight
He tries to understand
The message of apo dios
Writ on the land
And in the sky
But he doesn’t believe in poetry
And he can’t read God
Canción de esperanza
Before the roosters crow at dawn
I wait for him to rise
With his breakfast of fish and rice
He rides his carabao to the field
I wait a while before I wash his muddy clothes
Before the midday sun burns his back
He rests I come
Bringing him sustenance
Dreaming of deliverance
Alone in the afternoon
I scrub the whole house
With is-is leaves
At dusk I gather his dry clothes
And prepare myself for his return
While the cicadas shush my dreams I wait
El amante
Standing under a tree
Surveying the land
Now bathed in yellow light
As the sun bids
The sturdy green shoots
Farewell
He hesitates
To leave
Scratching the caked mud
On his foot
That rests on a mound
Of cold earth
He hears the croaking of a frog
And the distant crowing
Of a bird in flight
He tries to understand
The message of apo dios
Writ on the land
And in the sky
But he doesn’t believe in poetry
And he can’t read God
Canción de esperanza
Before the roosters crow at dawn
I wait for him to rise
With his breakfast of fish and rice
He rides his carabao to the field
I wait a while before I wash his muddy clothes
Before the midday sun burns his back
He rests I come
Bringing him sustenance
Dreaming of deliverance
Alone in the afternoon
I scrub the whole house
With is-is leaves
At dusk I gather his dry clothes
And prepare myself for his return
While the cicadas shush my dreams I wait