Glowing, the evenings are
Along a quiet boulevard.
Laughter sent with the breeze,
Orange twilight, and midnight trees.
Always, aboard jeepneys,
Engines run wild, careless, and free.
When exhaust fills the air,
And breathing seems impossible,
Eyes close, a shoulder shared,
Praying not for a miracle.
For the night is soon gone,
No stars on distant horizon.
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