Emigrant Poem by RIC BASTASA

before you left this island
of your birth
a big party was held,
roasted pigs, noddles for longevity,
sticky rice for luck
and white rice for your purity.

the whole village talks about you
in praise having married an american
who shall bring you what fortune
lies in the big apple.

at that time, letters were sent
telephone calls were made and the
girls in the village envied you
for being too happy and contented in
what you call as the land of honey.

years passed, things changed, world
events happened, and now with all
these cellphone technology and facebook
and viber phenomenon,
and with this covid pandemic,
you post what is most essential,
what you need most, as you say

" i miss home, and i want to be
back in the village where i was born"