She had walked along Beach Road late one afternoon,
Upon the blue Marianas waters shone the translucent moon,
The scene hasn’t changed much: the wharf, the bench, the tree
And neither have the winds across the Philippine Sea
As she sat on the bench, Norfolk pines touched the sky
the tide seemed much stronger than on evenings gone by
He approached with the breeze, and at much the same pace
and both lifted her spirit as she lifted her face
His smile, she recalls, sparkled with twinkling grace
That smile hasn’t changed since she first saw his face
In his eyes were a magic like stars shooting through the sky
Broad shoulders. Strong physique. Deep long sigh.
He uttered no words, but his loneliness peeked through
Her eyes, too, spoke of pain forever connecting the two
The evening was silent, as they sat side by side
Just the moon up above, and the breeze, and the tide
She would glimpse him in Garapan. A moment of glad.
Though she still bore the pain of the thoughts she once had
Looking back on the years even when islands apart
Nothing ever lessened the flame from that auspicious start
Tomorrow that moon will seem a world far away
she’ll remember Beach Road and that warm fateful day
In that same open space where they forgave and they’ll forget
A new dream and a new start as they watch the sunset
One more glimpse at the skies, and the moon seems much bolder
The tide is getting closer, the air seems much colder
Times have changed. Things will never be like that day
but love defies the odds and the curse of being away.
Riza Oledan-Ramos (Special to the Saipan Tribune)
Riza Oledan-Ramos is a hemodialysis nurse at the Commonwealth Health Center and author of The Boy Who Dreamed to Be With His Parents on Saipan, Germstopper Boy, and Drinking Seawater (A Typhoon Soudelor Memoir).