The December wind is missing
here in Marikina, where warmth
surrounds corners, dark alleys & river
bridges: series of streetlights, smoke
clouding out of charcoal & cars. Attempts
at writing another poem about the moon
crumple at my moist fists —she’s not hiding
behind fumes or valley highlands. They lied
about calling her a new moon: nothing is
new — about reappearances, the tiresome
helplessness of scribbling over wrong words,
the frequent waiting. Elsewhere she is Selene,
and there was no smoke, only seas of white fleece,
the green field not named as being in flames.
She turns to cast them with pale shadows
while lying next to a shepherd’s cold arms.
His eyes shut with lashes like sparse line of grass
remaining, never growing again. As another
twelve hours pass, hills will light still, & she wills
to be the lover in disguise, shining yet unseen.
As long as she’s there, the lunatic in me lives.
after seeing Geminids, 13 December 2012
Marikina City – San Pedro, Laguna
21 December 2012 – 31 December 2012