Mga Hinanakit ng Isang Insekto

At Five

It begins,
It starts,
at the Hour of Five.
The clock says five,
at the Hour of Five.
He is there, he is here,
at the Hour of Five.
He begins, he starts,
at the Hour of Five.

The second hand moves,
a second after Five.
He watches, he glances,
a second after Five.
He sits, he stands,
a second after Five.
For somebody,
for Somebody,
at the Hour of Five.

The minute hand moves,
a minute after Five.
Somebody might be there,
somebody might be here,
a minute after Five.
Somebody might pass by,
somebody might smile,
or Not, at Five,
at the Hour of Five.

It is a quarter,
a quarter after five,
He keeps his guard,
a quarter after Five.
He paces forth and back,
he goes round and round,
a quarter after Five.
He wants to, he does not,
at the Hour of Five.

This is his desire,
a half hour after five.
Somebody might show up,
somebody might appear,
a half hour after Five.
Somebody might be Somebody,
his somebody, his Somebody,
or Not, at Five,
at the Hour of Five.

The hall is empty,
with people, with voices,
with life,
at the last quarter of Five.
The hall is dead,
with faces, with colors,
with light,
or Not, at Five,
at the Hour of Five.

He is unsure,
but he remains,
at Five, the last minute of Five.
He wishes, he dreams,
the last minute of Five.
He is there, he is here,
the last second of Five.
He still is, always is,
at the Hour of Five.