First Met
Author: Binh T Ngo


I remember the summer
When she walked in.
She was alone.
A girl came in the door;
She walked softly forward
To a group of men
And a little girl.
The leaves of the mango trees
Were rocking in the summer heat;
I didn't see them.
The jeepneys and the tricycles
Were running in the streets.
Did you hear them?

Were there people
Listening the room inside?
The TV was on.
Was it the News,
A basketball game,
Or Soap Opera at the time?
Victoria saw you, too;
I wonder what she thought.
The man was her father.
I know you realized the other man;
Your Pastor, yes?
Kuya Manuel and Ate Rachiel
Were there, too.
I don't know when,
But God took them away!

I know that girl!
She came closer.
I think her eyes greeted the others,
And then she walked to me.
This must be her!
This is her for real?
This is her for real!
I know her!
What do I do?

Is this him?
This must be him!
One o'clock at the church.
Is this the church?
I know this place;
I've been here all my life!
They're so early!
One o'clock!

I reached out my hand.
I wanted to stand up,
But then we would hug.

I would hold her too tight
And the Pastors would look away
And Victoria will look down.
We shook hands.
Nice hair on her.
My teeth showed,
I know.
She has a pretty smile.
Oh, my God!
Yes, we touched!
For real!

Few things were said,
And her Pastor left.
"We'll let you two talk,"
Pastor Paul stood up
And grabbed Victoria's hand;
She looked, and walked on with him.
They walked out the same door;
And the talking from afar.

There was silence.
This is her for real!
This is her!
I can see her eyes!
Did we blink at all?
The shape that formed her nose,
Her lips
And the line between them,
Her cheeks and her jaw,
Her two round eyes,
And every details God molded her,
I can see them all!
I don't think we blinked.
The eyes!
I can see what's in her eyes.
I wonder what she saw in mine.
The minutes passed.
She didn't sit comfortably.

I don't know from where,
The heart,
The mind,
The lips,
But the whisper:
"I love you."
The souls.
"I love you!"
I remember her mouth, too.

Everything's so silent!
Through the window
The sun smiled where we sat.
She had on a blouse.
My vanilla polo.
Blue jeans;
And blue jeans.
My new Nike was for her!
That black zipper purse,
And her tennis shoes.
(She ties them differently!)
It's true!
It's so true,
For real!

Oh, that summer afternoon.
While the trees were still dancing
And the sun got out so brightly,
They got up
Walked to the door.
She then wasn't alone,
And will never be alone


Comments on this poem/writing:

Meridian ( -- Saturday, March 6 2004, 08:01 pm

Feelin the poem

Oh yes! I never quite read a poem like this. With actual detail! You must have a photographic memory. What I am trying to say is, this is better than just plain nice, this is SWEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Name:                                           Remember Me

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