Salimbabatangs

a poem by Roger B Rueda

Putting my feet up on the futon by the great

image pane,

my thought

is committed to the heavens.

Early evening.

Sapphire slithers away

like water into beach.

Black draws out now,

the coconut tree

near, lead trees and

houses across the road.

Street lamp bends 

a slight radiance

below the untaken dark.

After that, salimbabatangs. 

Plunging,

wings flicker,

shift and go around

in the footing

of starvation,

the strip for intention.

How specks complect

as one or

collapse to capaciousness,

appetite, entreaty.

Variety is but a flash. Shift

feeds us.

Tranquillity reclaims the firmament.