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The ancestral house seemed smaller, today seen with eye glasses
The pathway seemed shorter, the mangoes grow loftier
It was once open field across the hill
Mushrooming subdivisions had blossomed
The little flower orchard had vanished

But anyhow we felt it would still be remembered
Harrowingly different, but pretty much the same

There was an unfamiliar children’s “bahay-bahayan”

On that path that we arranged
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Wednesday, April 29, 2015
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