 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
A Homage : Our Playground Basketball Court  Barricade   Like a lady in stilts, beside it, we were a third of its size After she was erected, on wet cement, my name was engraved on its sides It read Junnie 79 in distinct, clear, legible 10-year old typewriter-like scribble A witness to boyhood games ending in fisticuffs She became the address when all boys were out for a puff As we grew in size, every idle time was spent in her arms Years passed by and climbing her braces meant more harm She was there when gin, grass and girls were first tried When adolescence became the reason to rebel, to be different She absorbed the tyranny of quakes, typhoons and heat She quietly stood waiting for another generation to hoop it up Alas, soon, her limbs will crumble from human force From human selfishness, she becomes the collateral for in-fighting She will be torn down, in a couple of days, and I will not be a witness I may not resist the cry for help as the lady in stilts – will be gone – for good. Sentimental on a Sunday Visit, (Las Pinas, February 2003) Bookmark this post on:
    |
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
