Sea Memories
The red fish dangles
Among a set of pictures
Stuck to a wall with tape
Which won’t stick for too long
The photos depict sea nomads
In a generation’s past
When fish was abundant
And boats were still scarce
The sun-touched hair of a youngster
Waves on the wind
Of a speeding boat at open sea
The Yamaha motor echoing
Towards coastal dwellings
Passing a large vessel
The eyes are distracted
Thoughts directed at a life not anymore
Small fish bite, but bigger ones
Are from a decade ago
The spear pierces a rainbow fish
A faraway blast destroys the coral reef
But on Isaw’s boat in shallow waters
A pot boils three portions of rice
The youngster climbs back into the boat
Alas, the red fish loosens
And drifts slowly on hot air
Falling onto a floor
The piece of tape still sticking
To its fabric body
Mesmerizing Munia
An olive-backed sunbird
Witnesses from the flower-tree
A munia’s singing
Some branches away
If not my hat had flown off
My ears would’ve been
A deaf man’s truth
To the two of birds just named
Bām—coconut drops
A ten-metre height
Beyond the munia’s cry
Dug deep in darkish clay
Another melody now
Its tones highly irresistible
I can’t find focus
On the work to do
Resting upon my rake
Balance lost
The sunbird takes off swiftly
And I raise the rake
Then pick up again that munia
How or what
Will be alone
Is not the coco forest
From a cacophony of birds
But the farmer’s husband
If mesmerized during
Those toiling days
Amidst sweat and singing
Memories to a Saturday Customer
A sudden flashback causes her
To ponder on their meeting
Not a fling some years ago
But when he bought lemoncitos
On the third Saturday last month
She could not recount its exact numbers
Or whether his hair was light or darker
But his tone of voice was what made her
Distinguish this one here from others there
The small woman holding bell peppers
As she familiarly touches buttons
Of a system weighing and counting
Minimizing efforts of the brain
The stained thumb touches coins
And she purposely slides her palms
Against his finger tips
In a sudden surprise
Garlic and pepper
String beans with okra
Folded inside old tabloids
Then put into his basket attentively
The body moves outside the market
Taking with it, thoughts of a woman
Remembering the man from a crowd
Of a hundreds a week
Entering her stall after leaving the pisos
In her line-written palms