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I cannot not remember my mother,
whatever time...whatever day,
during work or while viewing sunsets
while relaxing...or while too stressed,
her face...smiling or wearing a frown,
or a tune of a song she used to sing,
all these hover over everything
around me, they dangle like tassels
of memories,
they make me recall more.

I cannot not remember the scents
of flowers in my mother's garden
that she used to grow and love,
for they all still exist  in my garden,
dishes she used to cook for us,
I now cook for my own family.

When a breeze brushes over me,
i cannot not remember, how in the
early mornings of her life, my mother
had rushed to the church, to hear
mass...to serve God 'til the last days
of her life...she did, in every way.

I cannot not remember my own mother,
for i saw in her how to be a mother
and a grandmother
with love, extreme effort and care.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 24, 2024

One dry night in June
brought a floating soft tune
of crickets' calling...air was strewn
with their song......the night wind
blew slow and felt silky on skin,
My steps were measured,
a good view, a right shot was needed
for, high up the neighbor's roof,
hang a creamy full moon.

On an empty street...quiet, moon-glowed
there, stood...me and my stilled shadow.
i felt, God put a finger on His lips, the world
was silenced...to hush sounds
to cease movements in the dark mounds
of vacant lots.......to call my attention,
.........to waken my perception.

It was too quiet...not a dog barked.
suddenly, i heard motions in the dark,
a crash...perhaps, a bat made its mark
in my mind, fear sparked
a cold wind swayed the branches
a scary noise, but i shunned my hunches
then fled, as restless leaves rustled 👀 👀
yet, me and my shadow never separated.



Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 24, 2024