Nasudi, A Daughter Of The Sun

Nasudi, dear:

Today, as I write

This letter,

I think of you:

Two years old in

A century of absence,

Two years old

In the changing

Of lights

And days

And years

In a land

So far away.

I dream for you:

Bright sunmoonstars

In Redondo Beach,

The site of summer lights,

Sunset shadows, too.

I remember you:

You hold my hand

On the sand

And I think

Of the distances

Between us.

I think of this loss:


Keeping us


I listen to you

As you say:

Hello, papa.

I thank you

For the hello:

I think of

The sun and

The moon and

The stars

So far away

From you.

I heave a sigh

And I tell you

In the gathering dusk

Of our migrants' life:

There are more

Fathers and daughters

Like us,

More if you count

The numbers

From the beginning

Of our history's

Tearing of families apart

For the remittance.

The big men export us.

Or we export ourselves.

Or both.

But then, but then,

We will get to watch

Our own sunmoonstars.

Loving you so dearly,


Aurelio S. Agcaoili

Dec. 14, 2004

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