A year before she became a mistressPosted: March 17, 2012
I see you had the pine tree cut.
I must say, these Dancing Ladies
that your wife tied around its stump –
but surely you haven’t forgotten
How that tree’s needles
once brushed the sunlight onto your face
through your wide windows
tickling you with warmth –perhaps even
lullabying you with their rustling –
that you get another half an hour sleep?
You couldn’t have forgotten
That beneath that tree,
on that gone High School afternoon
I told you
I wanted to caress your face every morning
with the warmth of my breath
And to lull you to sleep with my lips, which will not hum
But will press themselves on your eyelids…
No, you must have forgotten.
It is your wife’s warm breath, or her snoring
That now lulls you to slumber.
I have a house in Davao,
With a wide lawn,
and the room on the second floor
Has open windows.
But no, I won’t let you
plant a pine tree there.