
By Vincent R. Pozon
I started a gallop but my legs failed
to understand, I fell to the asphalt,
arms ahead for pitiful protection
I asked about a priest in a photo
of a friend in the hospital, the words
"extreme unction" perplexed them
When I look out the car window, up
from book or tablet, or from a nap,
the whiz of a world slows to a still:
Shows me a building, a crowd flagging
jeepneys, where there were a field, a creek
and small stands of fruits and vegetables
In a sense, we notice inflation more,
tracked by the incessant clicking
of supermarket checkout counters.
We age, it seems, under our noses,
we should lift our heads, look out windows,
freeze the frame, every so often.
If you liked what you just read and want more of Our Brew, subscribe to get notified. Just enter your email below.
Related Posts
Honoring an Internationally-acclaimed Pampango Poet
Feb 10, 2025
A Sprig of Kamuning
Jan 16, 2025
There Really Isn't a New Year
Dec 30, 2024