This poem is taken from Stand 233, 20(1) March - May 2022.
Three Poems
Asosa
I think of you going to the edge of nowhere,
to the camp of a million homeless.
The roads are red dust
lined with dripping green trees
...
I think of you going to the edge of nowhere,
to the camp of a million homeless.
The roads are red dust
lined with dripping green trees
...
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