Sometimes it’s ok
to ask a tree to
bend a branch or
two, even more ok
to demand it with
your afternoon voice
holding a half-eaten
limb of rabbit or
squirrel, or whatever
children find in the
forest these days.
Trouble is not in
the disagreement,
sometimes it’s ok
to lose a search or
lose a mother in the
large-small loves
that we start in
markets, where
eyes move like
frayed books losing
the gold of life.

Sometimes it’s ok
to move in the dark
and listen to how
words shift when
one cries over a
wooden sink.

(c) Sam Roderick Roxas-Chua