Saan nga maymaysa ti aldaw

(Ilocano proverb: There is more than just this day.) 

It sounds so sure about tomorrow:
like being handed a kind of eraser.
Forget omissions, unruly sums; words

said in heat, the unintended tantrum 
with guarantee of a pass for later.
It sounds so sure about tomorrow.

What of the terror of the night, the arrow
that flies by day, the noonday scourge?* Care
can't restore unruly suns; or words, harrowed.

We look at proof of all we've done, hum
on good days of legacies, better weather.
We sound so sure about tomorrow.

But here's tomorrow washing the hair and bones
of our dead, tipping their dust into burial jars. 
We who used to feel surer about tomorrow want
their laughter back, all their unruly banter.
 



*Psalm 91: 5-6
"You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday."