A Farmer’s Memory

Share

The neighbors say he suffers from

dementia. On the balcony, he stares at

the cloudless sky. How he declares

the stars have turned into tubers

of motley shapes and colors! He asks if

he could fish some and trade them for

a gantang of rice. Perhaps the

copious harvest at his clearing one

May afternoon has lingered in his

memory. When he goes silent, I send

him to his bedroom and tell him

that tomorrow evening, the sky will

be teeming with stars. He smiles.

P2 Img 0079
Jeric Tindoy Olay

Jeric Tindoy Olay is a teacher, poet, and opinion writer born in Macrohon Southern Leyte. He currently teaches at Ichon National High School. His essays and poems have appeared and are forthcoming in TLDTD, Philippines Graphic Reader, Mekong Review, Paris Lit Up,Quadrant Magazine, Queen’s Quarterly, Ragaire Magazine, Philippine Daily Inquirer, The Philippine Star, and Rappler.

Table of contents [hide]

Read More

I Was Six when My Father Brought Home a Chick

I was six when my father brought home a chickThe cheap one you see during fiestas in the barrio. I can’t recall what colorwas sprayed upon its ruffled feathers, but I remember how it...

On My Father’s Tomb

at the town’s public cemetery, I lightthree candles to celebrate his life. Their flames are tiny suns that flickeragainst the dusk. His name on the wooden cross is fading. When was my last visit...

Back to its Roots

The virus made everyone cower inside their houses—windows taped shut as if air and light were poisonous and doors locked tightly as if to shut out more than just a robber but...

Essence

On her windowsillMother keeps a small garden.A patch of many shapes and colors.Old twigs coaxing unborn leaves.Subversive thorns caring for vari-colored blooms.Plants and essences that cureToothaches and loneliness.Here, she wields the power.She...