for Antonio M. Tino Sr.

How Grandpa lost
the arch of his A
and the summit of his T

just went past
the curiosity
of the crowd.

His strokes, for long time,
stopped trains at his station
or released them for the next—

semaphores waving,
the railwayman's whistle.

Then, they
went still,
silent. Yesterday,

a train passed by,
it didn't stop.
Its livery

were the curve of his A,
the summit of his T
and the sage of his Sr.


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