And the books will still be there on the shelves, detached souls,
That emerged once, drenched
As shining mangos under a tree after the rain,
And consumed, tasted , delicious fame
Despite defying seasons, crawling ants,
children stoning, the earth in motion.
“Even if” they said, “our pages are worn to shreds,
Shabby and brown, or a fly has been preserved
Between sheets, so much durable
than we are. Whose delicate heat
chills the heart and memory, scatters, expires.”
I imagine when I will be faced out
Replaced by audio, video books – nothing ensues,
no bereavements, no harm, it’ll still be television shows,
Make-ups, money, women, a moment with music.
still, the books will be there on the shelves, able-bodied,
ripe because of people, and also sunlight, crowning.
—-
Hannah Louise Enanoria is a 4th year AB Sociology student of Ateneo de Davao University.
