Burning in Davao

Poetry by | March 4, 2024

Bitter shade or none at all,
underneath the fiery ball,
I bite my teeth as I go outside,
praying to Christ I don’t burn
at the first touch of light.

Metal, cushion, all hot to the touch.
Like my coins as I count how much.
I wonder
how the driver has not melted away
in front of the glass.

I squint and see the metro-inferno
outside: the people walk as if it’s not a hell-hole.
How could one endure sunburn’s gash,
white light,
biting anyone in its path.

Then I remember
days of rain and cloud,
when I prayed it was
burning in Davao.

Benjamin Thursday R. Rosaupan is a student studying AB English in Ateneo de Davao University.

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