I was six when my father brought home a chick
The cheap one you see during fiestas in the barrio.
I can’t recall what color
was sprayed upon its ruffled feathers,
but I remember how it felt
holding it between my shaking palms.
Warm. Soft. Tender.
Almost magical.
Then I squeezed the chick. Thinking
that was the proper way of keeping it forever.
My father saw me and said,
“You’re going to crush it,” he smiled.
“The chick is fragile,” and added,
“Handle it with care.”
At nineteen, I should have told you
what my father taught me
before I entrusted you with my heart.
Christian F. Patulot
Christian F. Patulot is a poet, essayist, journalist, and researcher based in Balete, Batangas. He was a fellow of the Philippines Graphic Literary Workshop for Poetry. He writes about culture, language, and the everyday experiences of Filipinos.
