in memoriam
always she will leave
us this image of the
fair zambales wind,
brushing her cropped hair
& neck just so,
her body leaning leftwards
the sea anticipating
a possible fall,
the sky astounded
by that half reckless
smile that seems to taunt us,
"want me to let go?"
as a girl of 11
i had watched her learn
how to sprint, fold
her fair lithe body
into an "o"
& cannonball into a
swimming pool with
merciless glee, a yelp
& an exclamatory splash.
i heard stories
of her when as a
young new year's eve party host
she'd light short-fused
powder-filled triangles
one after the other.
those bulacan noisemakers
could have maimed
fingers less careful
but she was
daredevil nonpareil
who'd toss bits of danger
into steel drums
then clap her ears
& marvel at the thunder
she had made.
in last year's last quarter
the zest of her body
the flame that was her mind
came to a slow grinding halt.
it had those who'd known
her ask an unbelieving
"why is she who showed
'moments of gladsome grace'
not spared
the body's teacheries
& disallowed the sweet
harvest of the greying?"
but she always had
a thoughtful pilgrim soul
that lit her from within.
last night that same soul
that appreciated the silly
the solemn the strange
lingered just so
to let her nearest,
her dearest
whisper their
own letting go.
--Babeth Lolarga
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