Let Me Write a Poem Instead

Babeth Lolarga

not that it is easier, i have to count syllables & phonemes
& wonder if the teacher in her will note my lapses
here in this space we “can hear the words fall from the ink
of [our] pens” as she once wrote in a card on the Lunar
Year of the Rooster when she woke me from the slumber
of the idle & lazy to practice mindful communication
i am mindful now of how we must weigh our words,
whether written or uttered, for we do not wish to leave
a trail of hurt & tears during our passage on this earth
the earth i felt on my back as i lay sweating on a yoga mat
on her floor while her white cat haughtily perched on me
as if to remind this human that cats will have dominion
arbitrarily someday if we continue to ruin our home planet
her home is so beguiling with its grove of graceful bamboo
& Tibetan prayer flags waving welcome & blessed be
after yoga we sit for breakfast on her bright table
brightened further by the colors of mango & mangosteen
the shiny cups filled with a choice of tea or coffee
even the paper napkin sits prettily i hesitate to wipe
my mouth with it so i tuck it in my pocket, bring
it out when i reach my own home & smile at
having a piece
of this person
we call
Marjorie

Babeth Lolarga is the author of three small editions of poetry: The First Eye (Kalikasan Press), dangling doll: poems of laughter & desperation (Paper Tigers) and Big Mama Sez: Poems Old & New (Central Books). She lives in Baguio with her husband, retired journalist Rolando B. Fernandez.