in keeping with the pyesta ng patay fever, i'm reposting this poem which originally appeared at naked scribbles. enjoy!

the birds
have fallen
I cannot tell
the time of day

the shadows
playing by
my bedside bemoan
the passing
of May

you look
at me pallid
and shrunken
from across
your pillow

never thought
these curtains
could ever turn
this rotten
this yellow

the garden lies
the fountain, dry
the gates rust
the leaves sigh

my breath heaves
gazing out the window
the sky is ashen
like your urn is
ashen, too

i look
at you pallid
and shrunken
from across
my pillow

you’re always silent
as the birds are silent
these days--
tenderly, unflinchingly
your eyes held me lovingly

yes, yes
it is time


Fine Life Folk said...

engaging from start to end. from not being able to tell time to finally determining what to do at a time you've chosen, your poem leads us all on a journey.

Victor Gregor said...

For some strange reason, this reminded me of A Rose for Emily.

gentle said...

@ fine life folk - thanks fine life. the act of writing poems lead me to different journeys too. :)

@ Victor Gregor - when i saw the title, i immediately googled it. my, oh my. 2mayo lahat ng balahibo ko. hehehe. poem version sha ng first short story ni faulkner!