At The Time When Mother Left For Ozamis Poem by RIC BASTASA

i remember now
it was at that time when mother packed her clothes
and left my father for good
back in the little village where mother
was raised by grandmother
as a naive girl
keeping things to herself.
she dwells in a house of silence.

it was at that time when father said
that he loves her very much
that losing her would mean his death
but mother was no longer in the house
where we grew.

and of course, mother did not really believe him.
she died ahead of him, and he got drunk everyday, and
he put her picture on top of his chest and he cried all night long
staring at her face, black and white, her hair her mouth.
he died a year after and he was buried just beside her pantheon.

i still wonder if mother would believe him.

the silence is overwhelming. no one sweeps the heaps of leaves
and no wind is strong enough to clean the mounds filled with thick grass.

come summer time, i see white daisies blooming, and a black butterfly
hovers to stop a while. I watch closely this new turn of events.

it is like poetry. Some metaphors. Symbols, and hints. Love's mouth
wanting to say all over again, what the heart has constantly hidden.