First Shot

When I’m already old, please pardon me for telling you that the first shot of the Filipino-American war happened on this bridge. I may not hear you yell at me, that I’ve been repeatedly saying that for the last 50 years, I could be already deaf. I may not see you make face because I could be blind at that time.

Please forgive me. I just ask to hold my hands and lean your head towards me.

And then I will know that I’ve been on that same bridge, with the same person that I loved as my hair turned gray.

You.