Today started bright. As lovely as a red tomato in shiny bulginess and wet skin.
I went out of the house as though the sun itself has rested deep in me. This was how the day started. Bright as the first day of unspoiled, lovely summer, and hopeful as fire-trees in startling red against green.
Liyo Chai Padj Russ Yen, good morning. You are my special collection of poetry. Mwah!
I sent the message to my friends’ phones while riding the jeepney. There was again the playful child surfacing. It was this morning of all mornings that even the fast-paced touch of the street air against my face tickled and excited me, happy at the almost silly way I alternated from closing my eyes and deliberately but carefully turning my head out of the jeepney window, to pushing phone buttons and laughing a very good laugh in gurgles (lest I appear all the more silly to the other passengers).
Green man turns on, and a throng of busy people crosses the street. Behind the others in their bags, notebooks, groceries, and more bags is a couple in their late years – aged and walking slowly yet surely, hands held together. The woman is in a green skirt, the color of green when faded due to constant washing; her blouse is newer though, white designed with huge, green raindrops. The man is in a plain white shirt and brown slacks. He signals a hand to the jeepneys. They still had half a way to go but the green man is taken over by the red, immobile man. The jeepneys willingly comply. I sat there waiting. The few seconds seemed longer. But impatience does not set in.
I silently take in the view of two, white heads.
One is bobbing confidently and hurriedly; the other, bows a little and looks up to the stronger one in full trust.
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