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Absara Ghiorghis

Rookie (California)


She is from the Abyssinian Empire
where the sun toasts the skin
miles, deserts, oceans away

She is from the land of hidden beauty
a place that birthed Queen Sheba herself,
miles, lands, oceans away.

She is from the land of sweet papayas;
where you hear the laughs of hyenas,
miles, deserts, oceans away.

She is from the land of exotic people
where skin can look like cinnamon, cocoa, or sand;
miles, deserts, oceans away.

She is from a land inflicted with disease and poverty
where water comes from a gray bucket out of a well,
three miles;
deserts, oceans away

She is from a land where they beat on cowhide drums,
where they sing praises to God,
miles, deserts, oceans away.

She is from a land that birthed my radiant mother,
where my father learned arithmetic,
miles, deserts, oceans away

She is from a land that made me,
a place where my people are
miles, deserts, oceans away.

Submitted: Thursday, March 01, 2012
Edited: Thursday, March 15, 2012

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  • Rookie Lenore Lee (3/15/2012 10:32:00 PM)

    This is a fantastic poem. It sounds so very lonely though, being isolated from your home land...

    Strange, how pain turns into beauty through poetry, isn't it? (Report) Reply

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