Summer in Pitogo

I pondered what I miss of Pitogo - the tiny, special town that reminds me of my summer youth

Is it the narrow roads of rolling terrains that we enjoy trekking with,

or is it the loyal pack that trail us in our trips to the horizon?

Who could ever forget the taste of savory snowballs -

the touch of velvety sweetness that melts in our mouth like a sweet manna from Heaven

I can still hear the crushing of the ice, the turning of the wheels - oh the hard labor, the innocent

patience!

Do you reminisce the time we had together at a mini theatre,

where tiny speck of garapatas tormented us, reminding this is not our turf?

How about the days when the Hiwaga, the Shocker, the Precious Hearts, the Fantasy and the

Funny comics became a temporary relief for our boredom?

I remember the pretty damsels that I danced sweet music with, the stroke of the drums, the

lambadas – the nostalgic tunes!

Their faces now only a mirage, slowly fading

Dance, I do not know, but when I'm in Pitogo I feel like I can do it all.

I also remember the chico trees at the back that we used to climb with

until a momentarily slip reminded me that all those were only memories

of what it used to be

Time has eroded everything - the sceneries, the places,

the smile, the people - all those are long gone, including beloved Nanay

Only the house remain that continue to remind me of years passed - in full glory I will always

remember Pitogo but only in my dreams and faded memories