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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.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012



Snow falling faster than it can melt. Unto every one that hath shall be given, says the sky: hawthorn and bridal wreath now twice as white.---Dave Bonta, The Morning Porch

 If he had his druthers, he’d rather not be given:
 too little time for too much to give back on.
 A keen eye to see both sides of a magic coin?
 Be a magistrate then, look for the right and just.
 And snow falling faster than it can melt?
 What ever for? He’d rather they all blow back
 to whatever skies they’ve fallen from. Too late
 anyway for the grandkids who prayed as hard
 as the grumbling Imam now hoarse with his
 praying at the muezzin. What’s a hillock for
 if it is not snowbound for tobogganing? He will
 not suffer the little ones to miss their winter
 sleigh. On the other hand, this could be a wayward
 winter storm giving back a late wallop for having
 been given a welter of clouds and a clash of heat
 and cold. He said it’s worth a shrug, like cold tea.

—Albert B. Casuga

This is poem 24 of my poem-a-day project for the National Poetry Month (April)

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