He sang to me
his music
of silence.
His canvases empty…
a great painter was he.
He wept devoid of tears,
and he laughed without teeth…
his books contained
no linesnor did his poetries.
He never said the words
but I know he loved me…
one who truly feels love,
discerns it quietly.
BY ALEM KIDANE
THE ETHIOPIAN HERALD WEDNESDAY 5 JUNE 2024
