by Tea Solon
she was young
when the old world
of her fathers
burned to ash
too young to understand
why it happened or
who happened but
she remembers the agony
of the collapse
through her mother’s
lullaby the trembling voice
trying to mute
the wallow of tears
the hands that pat and
arms that rock her
to and fro to sleep
which force trembles to
take a tight grip
none of the birds
or honeybees told her
the story although
she is sure the acacia
trees witnessed the horror
and perennial plants
grieved at the trauma
and loss. the fractured belly
of the pacific belches and
groans at the bones
that lay waste in its ocean bed.
she noticed when
her mother smiles,
the glint in her eyes harbor
a thousand unshed tears.
September 20, 2022 | Cebu City
Philippines
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Photo by Lana
