Golgol
We learned to keep the ghosts away
Standing by the river, stripped
Down to our undergarments.
The flock of family members
Huddled together as the mamangs
Prepared a somber blend
In their half-shell bowls:
Blood of a fowl let by
A silver-edged blade, burnt
Remains of rice stalk and bamboo,
The drops of Saint Michael
Swift-winged deliverer of departed
Souls and juniper spirits.
We bent our heads
And the mamangs poured.
The mixture dripped over us
Like wax melting off a candle,
The seal of a baptism,
A protection spell for those of us
Left on this side of the water.
Standing by the river, stripped
Down to our undergarments.
The flock of family members
Huddled together as the mamangs
Prepared a somber blend
In their half-shell bowls:
Blood of a fowl let by
A silver-edged blade, burnt
Remains of rice stalk and bamboo,
The drops of Saint Michael
Swift-winged deliverer of departed
Souls and juniper spirits.
We bent our heads
And the mamangs poured.
The mixture dripped over us
Like wax melting off a candle,
The seal of a baptism,
A protection spell for those of us
Left on this side of the water.
Verna Zafra-Kasala was born in the Philippines but was raised and still lives in the Pacific island of Guam. She earned a Creative Writing certificate from Fairfield University. Her work has appeared in Hawai’i Review and Minerva Rising, among other publications.
