Gantsilyo

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Yarn, like stems
Winding around a steel bough.

Shaped into something different,
Gloves, a scarf – a present

For your absentee mother.

Stalks pulled apart by tension
With lasting curls,

Never returning to what it was.

Ysabel Javier
Ysabel Javier
Ysabel Javier is a sophomore Creative Writing student at the University of Santo Tomas.

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Lines from My Nepal Notebook

A whiff of jasmine Rose petals scattering Mighty pines dancing Bamboos swaying, dipping, snapping back Sunflowers gazing at their namesake in giddy worship. A windy spring day in Godavari. (April, 2011)

A Portrait of My Father

Last night was your birthday Forgot to tell my cousin to light a candle on your grave. DID I LOVE YOU ENOUGH DID MY WORDS HURT YOU YOUR SHADOW STALKED ME I PROMISED THERE WILL BE NO TEARS I remember your...

The Arrangement of Falling Things

Along the walk to the InstituteThe Indian cork tree begins its silent shift.White, five-pointed stars rest on the pavement,not fallen, but arranged,as if the long night had paused hereto remember itself. Each blossom...

Making Believe

How long to carry on this pretense That, yes, I am now fine Making believe that you are just away on another Of your many leavings But how to walk In the shade of the trees And the...