My photo
ALBERT B. CASUGA, a Philippine-born writer, lives in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, where he continues to write poetry, fiction, and criticism after his retirement from teaching and serving as an elected member of his region's school board. He was nominated to the Mississauga Arts Council Literary Awards in 2007. A graduate of the Royal and Pontifical University of St. Thomas (now University of Santo Tomas, Manila. Literature and English, magna cum laude), he taught English and Literature (Criticism, Theory, and Creative Writing) at the Philippines' De La Salle University and San Beda College. He has authored books of poetry, short stories, literary theory and criticism. He has won awards for his works in Canada, the U.S.A., and the Philippines. His latest work, A Theory of Echoes and Other Poems was published February 2009 by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House. His fiction and poetry were published by online literary journals Asia Writes and Coastal Poems recently. He was a Fellow at the 1972 Silliman University Writers Workshop, Philippines. As a journalist, he worked with the United Press International and wrote an art column for the defunct Philippines Herald.

Sunday, June 10, 2012



A warm morning at last. Waxwings whistle at the tops of the tall locusts, but from the  phoebe nest, only silence: the young have fledged.—Dave Bonta, The Morning Porch, 06-09-12

 They will discover strength on their wings,
 and, soon enough, they will find the sky,
 and they will abandon these nests to fly
 wherever their questions bring them.

 However wild they are, they will ask them:
 How far is the sun from this burnt branch?
 Will they remain as just one of those things?

 Soon enough, even their needy nesting sound
 will give way to breast-beating flutter of wings,
 and they will surely be gone with the first wind
 that scoops them off from an unsteady home
 of inadvertent chances, and catch-as-catch can.

 But there is silence now at the phoebe’s nest–-
 the fledglings have flown–-Icarus-like must test
 their wings against the sinews of a summer wind.
 Is this uncertain quiet also an augury of mourning?

—Albert B. Casuga



Hannah Stephenson said...

Very beautiful and sad.


Thank you, Hannah. Appreciate this.