August is the tyrant month
Trees growing from graves blossomed
Upturning sod for lost loves
Rotting roots lusting for affection
Cursed mud flow with smothering sweep
Covering earth’s spongy face
Stirring subterranean low life brusquely
September’s calm was welcome in Wawa
Fresh cool winds greeted us at the pala-pala
Basking in the glorious sunlight of the strand
Then drank ‘coke’ while juicy gossip flowed
I am your cousin from Manila, no stranger at all
We played at hermana’s house all day
Then took the karetela ride back home
The horse bucked and we almost fell
Grabbed on, steadied your hold to break the fall
Out there in the inconstant sands I set myself free
I knew much of the perils and headed home
Before September ended
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