Kalamansi


The populous populate plentifully on the Golden Coasts

In houses fenced around the front lawn,

The old dog asleep atop brown grass

Next to the broken, plastic tricycle.

He is sometimes bewared by the loud kids coming

Home from school or the young thugs conspiring.

Sneakers hopelessly dance on telephone wires.

The upside down plastic wading pool collects dust as the

Sounds of the familiar ice cream truck,

Now lonely on a lazy afternoon,

When dragonflies dance.

Dust collects on skateboards in retirement,

Days when they carted to mini marts and

Shopped for baseball cards and

Days when stop signs leaned from tetherball tournies.

Children of children too young to ride skateboards,

So sleep soundly next to children’s moms.

Futile waiting in what hopes of breath

That blow the dust of time:

The old dog in slumber that used to

Chase ice cream trucks

Alongside children no longer innocent

Scraped knees on cement

Similar to prayers that now lament.

Out back, by the shady cobwebbed shed

The kalamansi tree dwells now dry,

At least it was given a try.

verse by Mark Villegas
photos by Tribo.com
Filipino Heritage
David Bacon
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