two days after grandfather died
his letter arrived from Manila
sky blue aerogramme
trifolded and sealed
by the aunt who kept vigil
typing for him what words
he had left on the Smith Corona
with the broken lowercase i
that pierced holes through paper
I remember school nights
finding him still
awake listening
for my backpack’s thud
on the wood floor
leading to his bedroom
slowly he’d rise
a smoker’s cough
clearing his throat
his voice tunneling
in half-dark
Are you here now, hija?
a direct translation
from Tagalog
Nariyan ka na, anak?
meaning You’re here, child?
meaning I’ve been waiting, dear one
holding the crinkled sheet
against the October sky
I find another sky
deeper blue
pinpricks of light
shining like Day-Glo stars
Yes, Papa. I’m here.
from What Happens is NeitherFind more by Angela Narciso Torres at the library
Copyright © 2021 Angela Narciso Torres
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Four Way Books.