Anchin, Dearest, On Your Birthday

For Nasudi Anchin

I can only watch the dream from here,

In this new land of our longing.

You are now a three-year old

Ageless angel and you word your way

To the best days ahead: a Disney

In December, a clay cherubim,

A ceramic doll calling out, "Anchin!"

Ah, such clarity, such gentle grace,

Darling dear. Your tiny hands trace

The creases of our fading faces

In bored, blurred lines,

Retracing in infant's imaginings

This unwanted absence. Your dancing lines

Delight in the moving of August

To some other magical moments.

I hear you sing to yourself

That birthday tune, a tender tale

Of counterpoints to this

Endless exile we are heir to.

Aurelio S. Agcaoili

August 2004

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