NOMAD VERSES: Desaparecido

Every night I lean by the porch waiting
for your silhouette under the stars.
It’s a ritual of fear, for it’s like
seeing again the mean shadows
that came and crashed the gate,
and snatched you from my arms.
On that night I lost you, your smile,
your mirth, everything about you,
and everything about me, my smile,
my mirth. You were my world.

If you’re dead, where’s your grave?
I combed the fields for your flesh
and bones, shreds of your clothes.
But there’s nothing, not even the scent
of the frail body I hugged each day.
How many candles have I burned
before the Virgin holding a dead son?
Or was I looking at my own image,
one depicting pain and sorrow?
I no longer know what to feel.

Yet, still I wait, still I hope.

Redmoon
06 November 2024

Redmoon of Bukidnon likes to describe himself as a trying hard poet.