::On Being Thankful::

Chocolate ringlets bounce with excitement.
Your sweet voice rings through the house,
And trills of giggly laughter ricochet off the walls.
You flash a broad smile and squint your eyes,
Knowing I cannot resist.

Delighted squeals and jumps meet your Papa
Whenever you see him.
You suck in air with thrilled fear
As you fly spread-eagle over his head.

My stomach fills with tingling joy
When you throw your arms around my neck
in a tight hug.
Knowing how easily I could break your circle
Makes me protect it even more.

I leave the wetness of your small peck on my cheek,
As I dare not erase the trace of love.

Running away from me,
Your little legs reveal a hint of the toddling
Slowly being replaced by the confidence of an older child.
And I hold my breath ever-so-slightly,
Still thinking you might stumble any minute.

The times you do, you stand up slowly and turn around
and look for my reaction.
I suppress the urge to pick you up
To make sure you didn't break.
Instead, a reassuring smile sends you back to your game.

In the quiet of the night, I take you in.
Squeezed against your pillow,
Your spongy cheeks squish your mouth open
Into an exaggerated cherubic bow.
Kneeling beside you, I inhale
Your tiny, sleepy puffs of breath.
I bury my face in your unruly mane of tangles and
Relish the smell of warmth and vanilla.
Gently, so as to not wake you,
I kiss the inside of your soft palms with their sugary scent,
Before I rise and retreat to the doorway,
Where I crane my neck behind the closing door
For one last peek at you.

::Ethiopia: Ballots to Bullets::

The upper lip furls to expose fangs,
Yet the eyes tell of fear,
And behind the uniform beats a heart that bleeds.
A nervous finger on the trigger,
Barrel aimed and too ready.

Silver drops sizzle through the air
And slash through flesh.
With a look of wonder and surprise,
His knees silently hit the ground,
Where his body folds in on itself in a lifeless heap.

Metallic-smelling rivers snake down the streets,
Picking up dust and debris,
Leaving the memory of nothing.

Wondime, put down that rock!
Yene lij, lower your shirt!
Today is not your day to die.

Ehete, dry your eyes!
Enate. Enate, squelch your cries!
Tomorrow must bring hope.

May the siren song of the future
Seduce those who can.
May their eyes insist to look
Upon the burning bush of Democracy.
And may their hearts be pierced
With the arrow of wisdom,
So they may reach
For something more.

::Of Despondency::

The heaviness of longing bears down
on me, and its gluttenous fingers
capture me, and its lead tentacles
pull me into the depths of loneliness, and
I wait for the day I will feel
relief.