a low flying crow
eyed pumpkin seeds lying
in Helen's backyard

winter fir
–ing of a thawing musket
crows scatter

Lingáw ko na kun sáin nagpoon
An pagrumárom kan isípan ko
Dángan an pagdaklág kan mga hapót
Hali sa mga naglalayog na uwák
Uyá nanaman sinda sinasabat an amíhan
Kinakakan an panganúron
Lingáw ko na kun sáin nagpoon

An pagtagúbtúb
An pagsubásob
An pagrugmók

Narisá ko nalang yáon na ako igdí
Sa táhaw kan katuninongan
Kúgos-kúgos kan karibokan
Nakatindóg sa tungód kan kasakitan
Naghahagad tábang sa búlan

Posíble bayâ na magadan
dáwa dai ka ginagadan?

—𝐔𝐰𝐚𝐤, a Bikol poetry.
Everyone's moon can be someone's savior.

I was on a plantain branch
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
She put her bangles on a rock
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
Glimpse of gold, shined my eyes
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
I took it and flew back home
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
A cry of fury trembling hut,
I wonder why she made that fuss.
With a bit of twinge I shout,
“One I took, three with you!”
Still her rage in frenzy mood,
Crowd is fanning flames to grow,
In my nest it shine and rest,
Golden bangles shining lust.
Then I went back looking around,
To watch the jokers in a run,
But my eyes in surprise hunt,
The bustle of hut in deep slumber.
Oh! Again this gold will turn
me a golden queen of crows.
Another bangle on the rock,
I took it and flew back home.
What a foolish bird I’m!
Fallen on their tricky trap.
They found my nest and climbed up tree,
My two bangles went with them.

Behold, a crow caw tears cold air,
ripping breezes to shreds tattered,
will Time **** her black bones fair?
He tries, but Her cries mattered.
Matters to whom, one can ask.
The Lady by her dim window unclear,
Using a clammy night for mask,
the docile heart, her beating, biding fear.
Ebony wings turn quietly…
Upon an evening dreary and sad,
fairest, My Crow, shrieks piercingly
and the Lady’s *****: glad.
For crow’s wails lament morbidly-
Screaming to and with the far too lonely.