478473 Poem by RIC BASTASA

You are not even my father




the birds peck on the rice grains

the children take turns in hitting them with their

stored stones

i tell them ' i never hit a bird with a stone during
my entire life'

'we never intend to kill them,
we cannot eat them anyway
they're too small' a child explains

'we are just doing it for fun' another child added.

' do not stone a bird, you are hurting it. It is not hurting you' i answered.

'who are you? You are not even my father' he reasons out and

without saying any word further

he left scorn in one of those dead birds

which none of them picks

from the bloodied ground.