— for my dear Etop Precious Iniobong —

Monsieur le Paka-paka-paka,

twenty boys,
barefoot,
chased a ball
through dust and dusk.

They shared breath,
shared salt,
shared spit,
shared bruises,
shared bread
shared the sun
inside their laughter.

But time…
time grew teeth.

One found war.
One found work.
One found wealth.
One joined the army.
One boarded a bus.
One forgot his name.
One buried another.
One wandered off
never returned.
Others?
Forgotten!

Now the ball lies still
in the dust
where laughter
used to live.

Le Rio,
twenty boys
cannot play
for twenty years.

Not when life
has other games
to teach.