Untitled
By Noel Pascual
Dear Rico,
How sudden was
it, really?
One moment, you were alive
and then, the next, you were gone.
Breathing,
then stopped. There.
It was just the difference between two lungfuls of
air.
(And if some nasty puck,
some roguish sprite
were in the shadows to color that volume of gas,
maybe blue, maybe green--
what was your favorite color, by the way?
Then, we could bottle up
your last given sigh and look at it,
the last breath of a young man.
Or could we vent that air through
several, rusty, metal artifices,
with the vain hope of ushering out a faint creak.
There, maybe, we can hear you again.)
But then, no puck, no sprite
and now we're left here
wondering where your last breath went.
For
comments and reactions to this article, please visit Tinig.com
Forums.
|
