If I bury my poetry
underneath Manila skies...
Contrasting colours
of nature shine equally...
What if the sky is made
of trees, the sun of white silk...
Climbed sacred mountains
swam in pools of the goddesses...
Our home is decadent in
peeling plaster...
On what day shall I weep?
I broke my collar bone...
Roses are red,
violets are blue...
First attempt at a Senryu. My apologies if it's...
There are things
that nothing can replace...
I've twisted elements
to match the sparkle...
Clay-smelling objects,
mud plates and bowls...
She is
a lustrous flame...