Poetry by | April 26, 2009

(For B.)

I’ve always watched in awe
the perfect flourish of your hands
and the outline of your stance
as you gracefully pushed your stick
with your firm grip
and slid the number-9 ball
into the waiting hole.

I always imagined
I was the most attractive pocket,
Yet it doesn’t seem so.
For every time you strike
the balls with your stick
you always fail
to sink it
into me.

Lyda May Sual is from Surigao del Sur and is a fresh graduate of the B.A. English – Creative Writing program of UP Mindanao.

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