Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


for noelle who remembers the fog and the pine trees in masangkay


slowly the fog
blankets the
pine trees

at night the coldness
creeps
in every pore of the
skin

like thoughts that
cover our hair and
creepy too in our
spine

wake up in the morning
see how the fog leaves
the pine trees

see how our minds
clear

thoughts leaving
like birds perched
last night
in the branches of our
minds

Submitted: Thursday, September 12, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 13, 2013
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