Paradise Village

by Justine C. Tajonera

I want to step backwards
and retrace the lawn
in my childhood home
in Cebu.

There was an orange swing
at the back
and the street where we lived
was named Mango.

I used to bathe
in an inflatable pool
that we used to take
to the beach.

We buried our white
Pekinese dog named
White King
in the yard.

I have a hundred pictures
of my life before
my mother died
and now I am older
than she would
ever be.

There must have been
a time
that I would wake up
in the middle of the night,
looking for her,
the way my son
sometimes does
when I am home
late.

But I don't remember
that
anymore.

(April 26, 2010)
Image of a Pekinese dog from http://www.flickr.com/photos/c_pedersen/3830232275/