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 Elena's Humming Soul

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Her fingers
craved. Trembling
for rice
inside the palayok.

Just one single meal
She thought
to survive,

Her shanty,
Squalid and dark
beside the estero.

Her only refuge
from stern eyes
and iron rods

The only thing
she can call 
her own . . .

Till those men
in blue
crush her roof

forbid not,
her soul.

by: Elena Maria Mana-ay Parcon©2017

Date Written: April 19, 2014



 







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