The mangoes are in season

Oh look, the fruits are in season,
In great sizes up on our own tree
And the children outside do so agree
A mango of theirs is a mango for me.
And those unripe truly taste the best
Accompanied by his salty bagoong paste
Which we shared; memories that taste
Very sour, dear, and in heaven stays.
Simple things remained luxurious to I:
The dipping sauce you made for we two
To share and enjoy as what else we'd do,
And just to be there-accompanied by you.
Now you're the wind that blows our trees
Screaming "Oh, this bagoong will kill me!"



Rest in peace now Kuya Manuel..
You were an uncle to me in many ways.
You are gone but now
you can freely eat green mangoes with shrimp paste
in heaven, without kidney failure to bother you.

We love you so much.