Untitled I

a scape is traded for

every twitch of our lungs,

for every ounce of strength

we vigorously spend.

we erase a blemish,

add fresh scars, for gaining a day

that widens our schism with the past.

each mighty leap to the sky

chips fragments from our bones;

but each thunderous fall cements

the fissures all.

deeper our skin furrows become,

when we tag them with years;

nearer to the grave we wander,

when longer we want to outlive our birth.

- Prospero Pulma Jr -

Philippine Graphic

October 23, 2006

Vol. 17, No. 20

p.43