1979. rough times. <br />there was this <br />no man's land.of <br />rebels <br /> <br />dead bodies <br />were unaccounted for <br />on the road to <br />Pagadian. <br /> <br />we were on the bus. <br />it was a long travel <br />north of this <br />coastal island <br /> <br />the seagulls were <br />at sea looking <br />for a catch of <br /> silvery fish <br /> <br />we pass them by <br />the bus was muddy <br />and the rain fell <br />hard on the roof <br />and we closed the <br />glass window <br />afraid to get wet <br /> <br />slowly your weary head <br />inclined towards <br />my muscular chest <br />and rested there <br /> <br />and you began to <br />sleep soundly and <br />weave your own dreams <br /> <br />i smelled your soft, black hair <br />and i saw a beautiful face <br />with luscious lips <br />red as a rose in bloom <br />an inch away from mine <br /> <br />i could have kissed you <br />without your knowing <br />a slight touch could have <br />perfected love <br /> on your cheek <br /> <br />but i didn't. <br /> <br />Now i ask myself <br />if i ever have any regret <br />living a longer life in this <br />world. I have an answer. <br /> <br />it was a long, long travel. <br />and we at last arrived there. <br />the rain stopped. <br />the sun started to shine. <br /> <br />i still ask: why did i not kiss you? <br />why did i not even ask your name?<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-the-long-road-to-pagadian/
