A lower “l”No towerNot a TsegNo tall figurenor lankybut mediumeye levelthe neck restsas grateful as ever,thanking with a sigh of relief Higher pitchedbut still softlowered when drowsyand conquered by the buzz,in a timeless convosame passwordjust a lower “l” Error? Nosame password7 letters2 vowels5 consonantsno special signs or symbolsnot even 2212or 4same passwordjust a lower “l” … Continue reading lower case “l”
That loud cry,scream for the inevitablethe justicethe plainstakingly obvioustoo blind, too numb to seeAwoken by that crythat roarthat aubergine First tree, lights and cosy socksgiddy with a smileto pay was to noticeAhhhhh finally!Brown, gooey aubergine with the sharpest smell that woke meThe equally brown purse, its first victimSecond? The all important yellow to payfrantically wiping … Continue reading Aubergine’s roar
Pre flight sleepoverHot choco, carrot cake and ጓል ዓንዳት Gual Andat’s Himbasha(Ma’akor of course)The wheels on the suitcases gleefully glid as they finally serve their purposeClothes upon clothessnickers upon snickersand not to forget that raggedy netselaMurmours of laughter, gossip and joy through the nightlasting to dawn’s road ahead Fast forward, Last morning – tea and … Continue reading 6 weeks and beyond
The first ones were 10 of them10 starseach glowed and pressed firmly on the beige ceilingAt night in the pitched silence- bar the occasional motors- it glowedShined even[Whispers] ሓደ (hade), ክልተ (kelete), ሰለስተ (seleste), ኣርባዕተ (arbaete), ሓሙሽት (hamushte), ሽድሽተ (shudushte), ሸውዓተ (shewa’ate), ሸሞንተ (shemonte), ትሽዓተ (tishe’ate), ዓሰርተ (‘äserte) “Ewaayyy!” Taking a mini pause from her … Continue reading Être: Stars of Zen
Blurred memory Well, a memory of a memory, VHS cassette black box, flip over JVC enter play. Countless kids A 2nd and a 7th dresses, checked shirts and two kaba’s Three large cakes Guyla from the album of the decade you know it Laughter, joy and claps from the gleeful audience behind the scenes Ahh … Continue reading Green fruity
31°c degrees maybe 32°c Red slippers, a plastic bag, that rasta hat – to cover the pealing and those permanent smiles. Salvador, Bahia. Boa tarde Hours of walking, could have been the beach or the market. Consumed with pre-carnaval bliss, we ambled on. The once icy water from a forgotten street vendor near Boa Viagem … Continue reading The Guy and his Avó
Why did she call you that? “Hagaz’iey” Your mother that is. Was it your help with errands at home? Perhaps your courage and compassion was just what she needed as she mourned the loss of her infant daughter – your baby sis. Her “hagaz’iey” just the shoulder she needed Her rock. “Hagaz’iey” Maybe it was … Continue reading “Hagaz’iey”: My sweet uncle Seltene
Zara Tewolde-Berhan 