One could call it mercy,
Beatrice agreeing to be wed
to an aging and sick Magellan.
Their wedding like the first rain
of May on a barren field. Like
Mi Ultimo Adios carved on stone in Buhi
in a language spoken only in that town.
When I saw the image of a man
picking up a stray dog that has lied down
in front of a burger store from exhaustion,
I saw the prodigal son embraced by his father.
We learn mercy through forgetting.