What Kills A Sampaguita?

Is carried through
The elegance of wind,

The perfume of the sampaguitas,
Brushes my nostrils
With sweetness of their spray,

But the odd smell of the soot
Whiffs and diffuses thereafter
As it unclothes the dress of the

Oh, that darkened rapscallion,
Makes the blitheful wind turn
To a black criminal
That washes away the scent,
It’s smell, not dwelling
Upon my veins anymore,

Oh, solitude is what wind was,
The sweet smell passed away,
As my solitude,
Oh, solitude has grabbed by gray!



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