Morning Observations Poem by RIC BASTASA
Morning Observations
the first sunshine
kisses the hump of
the newly cut tree.
or
the hands of the sun
caress the wounds
of wooden slabs.
or
the wood cutters
sing rebel songs
away from the
forest of Jolo.
or
it is not normal
not to hear the sounds
of bombing in the skirts
of the marawi city
meanwhile it gives
comfort that military
checkpoints are only
about two kilometers
apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 3:19:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
