Return to Sta. Rosa

The port is no longer the same.  What do you remember now of what used to be clear
her full name and the story your arriving at twelve with an aunt 

who gave away crayons to children who never had.  An exchange
letters long before the first shy hello what else to say you both looked at your shoes 

hers polished and special for the occasion, yours taken for granted.
Did the letters continue after that Christmas, you no longer remember 

she had come to Opon City with a story about a factory but truly the story 
was lost long before that.  The pump boat comes as close as it could get 

someone has to push you on a pram the rest of the way.  Your lady love
holds your hand and marvels even after hearing the same story again and again 

the port was never mentioned, long and beautiful with white outrigger boats
in the morning, locals brown and beautiful with pails of mussels and sea urchin.  

The lady love points a marker in your repeated story, you find you do not remember
except a full name and a greeting in the local language so you say hello.