By April 29, 2020
For the dream I am
for the fear I have become
for the soul that splinters my love
for the lost and found broken
for the bearers of silent news
for the holy pebbles I’ve swallowed
for things possible in death
for voices made of distant laughter
This is a silent night
and I can’t close my eyes
Lying in the middle of a road
shadows of gliding overcoats
briefcases swinging
stop wondering why they don’t stop by
stop staring at the sun
there is no rest in resting
no glory close to the ground
This is a silent night
and I can’t close my eyes
For all the people from 24th May
I wish to meet you again and stretch time
just long enough for a memorable kiss
this is not a note of farewell
as its drenched face may suggest
this is a note of love
on a little piece of paper
peeled off my skin
Absence has become my refuge
for I can’t bear my mother’s voice
that still sounds like my childhood name
I can’t hear to a little girl
whose giggle poisons me with hope
how can I tell my sisters
that exile is an escape
to an island of
neither salvation nor return
For the dream I am
for the fear I have become
for the love that punishes me tough
for the little darling who asks me for the date of my return
for the mother who can hear my heartbeat over the phone
for the sisters waiting for their voice
for the brothers howling like chained beasts
I didn’t choose to be a poet
in the place of your dreams
Yohannes A. Tesfamichael
Nov. 09 2019
