RIC S. BASTASA

if living life and
recollecting its shattered pieces
is as easy as
gathering calachuchi flowers
and making it
into a garland for your
neck
i could have done that
even in a few minutes
for i have long hands
and my arms are still
strong and
i can still climb
like the coconut man
but it is never like that
and it is
never the same as it
once used to be

my lungs have dried and
narrow tubes
like the thin capillaries of
a leaf
which you inserted in
one of those pages
of your book

i always ask for air
more and more air
but you heard nothing
like this world
which holds all the air
from the trees and the seas
and yet has nothing
to give
to that dying person in
need.