On the plot of land next to my father’s
An old man comes to visit his son
He lights candles and brings flowers
And dusts the epitaph ’til he’s done
Sitting before the stone
He carves melted wax off empty jars
Arranging the flowers to his liking
Gazing at the scenery from afar
He waters the earth beneath him
Making sure each blade of grass is precise
Every day, he does this
Sometimes coming even twice
Where both life and death are found
And the wind whispers screams of sorrow
He keeps looking at the ground
Promising he’ll come back tomorrow
Why do you do this?
Is it out of love or regret?
Are you paying your respects?
Or are you settling your debt?
Stars stud the heavens above
As dusk engulfs the sky
The man takes one last look at his son
Leaving the graveyard with a sigh
On the plot of land next to my father’s
An old man comes to visit his son
He lights candles and brings flowers
And dusts the epitaph ’til he’s done
Jomira Comuyog is a high school sophomore at Assumption College (Makati).
2 poems
The Things My Mama Never Told Me