By Estrella Taño Golingay (Poetry)

Where the river was
is a trail built for the
gods. I can tell them by

the way they point their
fingers, leaves fleeing
down in fear. I hide

behind bars of fallen twigs
like a fugitive, my limbs
like pillars of vines. Things

solid get even here, curt
and clever in one sweep
of steel and teeth.

I must get back to where
Ye Famben toils on the
heels of Mt. Matutum

tell her how I miss her and
the songs of the woods she
used to sing for me, tell her

how scared I am of these
persistent stories slowly
claiming our hills and trees.

So I trace the footsteps home.
There were thousands on the
path back to Lamfitak.

Now there are only pebbles
and new sand that keep on
getting between my toes.