Alone in Camotes

As the Child flies her kite up and away. Few are hitting the water down deep, Under the blue sky, the sun’s rAys Touching everything on land, still and moving. The trees swings and the old Man whistles. Hovering in the air is the cold wind refreshing thee. Fine sands in the shore, marking the wave’s last touch With foOtsteps 1, 2, 3, glary eyes can see. The Calling’s song played, not minding it.

Still, my mind sings “wherever you will go”. Sea water now covering The shore, lurking desperate people. Wanting to splash the cold shimmering surface of Camotes’ sea. Lazy shores paving. Tree leaves falling – criss-crossing. LikE a school of fish roaming, taking chances. Men too, enjoying a bit, dozing leisure. For they know after all these- busy city is awaiting.