The Bringers of Bread
by Joseph O. Legaspi

With the cuc-koo-roo of roosters before dawn
my brother and I awaken and slip
through our mosquito nets as darkness
fades slowly into blue-and-bluer in the sky.

We walk into the crisp, dreamy air
not before grabbing the few pesos and centavos
waiting for us on top of our mother's bureau.

The gray road and the click clack of our slippers:
we know at the end of both is the bakery.
Until then, we pounce on stray cats and birds.

I bend down and my brother leapfrogs
over me; he bends down and I leapfrog
over him—separate entities from the same
womb, churning into one rolling animal.

At the bakery, we bask in the clean scent
of newly-baked bread, providers that we are.
We press the brown bags to our hunter's
breasts and let the warmth seep beneath our ribs.

Featured in THE POETRY MOBILE DISPLAY at Heritage2, October 16, 2004 George Washington University, Washington, DC

© Joseph O. Legaspi