The Grief of Mt. Makiling

It was on this steep earth
that I once stood upon,
when she spoke of the sweetest secret
that made the night the happiest of
Mt. Makiling; the blooming flowers
swayed with the blowing wind

The Fisherman

When I remember that fisherman
Walking out of our house every morning
Before breakfast begins, I think.
Now, we seemed to distant, his heart
As usual, too far from my own.