Last Tripcrossing Tañon Strait Thirty minutes is a drag yet too short
To wipe dry the salt spray pricking
A wound about to heal, so
I write this letter in my head and tell you
How we've changed. How the wave and
Monsoon wind pelt the starboard of the barge.
How the air reeks of ammonia and
Spoiled lunch. Of how the sole seagull
Fathoms the madness of the afternoon
And of how fast moving clouds span
The froth, the breadth of the sea,
The vastness of the sky
In transit, in between shadow and light
Should all else fail, at the very least
I’ve written, in draft
This first and last letter
That you will read,
Not in the dark, not
Far beyond
The last bus stop.
RV Escatron [revised, 22 January 2008]Linkback:
https://tubagbohol.mikeligalig.com/index.php?topic=8794.0
