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He left at 67.

No one knew
he caught the first light
through the window glass

smelled dew when autumn came
was joyous at the trills of birds
caught all the blue in his eyes
and smiled the sky was his.

No one knows
if it was too early to go.

He knew
he was briefly happy.
I too will go to you, says the son
to the face of the father.

He broadens his smile
thin and gathering dust for long
as if to acknowledge
he always knew
one day his son would stand before him
resigned and weary
willing to join on his route.

The son sees his father's lips
move in the briefest prayer..

Welcome.
~~~
~~~~~
~~~~~~~

This summer's heat was worse,
problems are at their extremes,
burning, like undying embers.

Murmurs in government, in
public and private communities,
create chaos.

Repetition, initiates a desire
to walk away from what upsets
even for a while...some just

Laugh things off, too tired of
useless smiles and handshakes,
some get fed up, walk away, and

Go to the waters, to the shores
filled with voices crying for peace,
seeking justice.

Throughout our struggles...the
battles we fight, we always must
maintain a dignified silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We deserve some respect
no matter
what.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monsoon season has come,
soon...rain will pour and
shall inundate.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 8, 2024
letter by letter,
     some of great lust,
     some of espionage,
     and secret meetings.

part film,
part theatre,
part fever dream.

we were woven together somehow,
      like we were characters in a book
      being read out-loud somewhere.
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