aboard a jeepney bound for a mall
on that avenue named after an island
long plagued by a secessionist war
i proceed to text, closing a mundane transaction
that will ensure i can pay another month's
rent for a room that has given
my daughter & me moments of peace.
suddenly i feel a stranger's hand on my arm
startled, i look up at the same time
protectively grip my phone
a lass of 16 by my reckoning
her hair, face, arms browned by the sun
points at a baby drooping on her chest
she folds her fingers into the shape of a rose
makes like she is about to eat the rose
hungry we are, her gesture indicates
& despite my shaking head to show i'm sorry
she repeats the gesture: rose moving up to open mouth
like me the other passengers turn away from her
our city hearts hardened by the almost daily sight
of barefoot gypsy mendicants hopping from jeepney to jeepney
risking young limbs & life as they get on & off
not waiting for a full stop
the lass balances the babe on her slender hip
her faded dress leaving behind the smell of sun & sweat
as she steps on the road that is her home
i bring my gaze down on the tiny screen
of the phone, double checking if the party
paying me for a painting of two split
fried milkfish desired by cats
was able to get my bank details right
i get a smiley face for a reply
i exhale, relieved & grateful that somehow
i have spared myself, my daughter, my sweet bonny lass
the fate of ever swinging from jeep to jeep
tugging at strangers' sleeves
hoping for mercy & the occasional coin tossed our way
-- Babeth Lolarga
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