OUR EMERALD tower of prickly pines,
crystal spheres dangling
from its sturdy wooden arm
our neighbors fuddled with drink
singing carols
with jumbled lyrics
pouring drinks in your name, saying,
“O, kay Kuya Leo naman.”
You used to wipe the dust off the figurine angels
revealing faded smiles
paint chipping off from handheld harps and trumpets
left, right, left, right went the washcloth
and the golden star for the finish
that you wouldn’t let anyone touch nor clean
(Remember when I used metal polish
and you didn’t speak to me for a week?)
You used to bring yards and yards of garlands
lines of silver and blue and purple whirling
enveloping the tree in a wiry embrace
around and around the tree it went.
“Like everything around us,” you said.
“Like the Sun.
It rises and sets, and rises again.”
Sweet promises of the indefinite tomorrow
And when you were done
you beamed
the delicate angels with harps and trumpets
holding a little cheer
even if only for a short, bitter while
At least it brought you
away from the viciousness
of the concrete jungle
betrayed by emotions
the anxiety of everyday objects
empty bottles of Prozac hidden in your drawer
“Even if you’re damned,” you used to say,
“you press on.”
The angels, the garlands, your beloved Star
they are still with us
we dust them off
we spin it around
as it dangles and then settles
like a memory that settles slowly
in the center of a caloused heart
Z.G. Duque II
