I woke up from my sleep,
As I do everyday
I prepared myself for a walk,
For lack of a better choice,
To fill up an empty time gap.
As I began to walk,
I paused for a second,
Which way to turn corner.
Then all of a sudden,
I saw the street,
Intact in shape and form,
moving along as a block,
Pass the spot,
Where I stood and watched.
As the street walk the walk
And I with my dream talk the talk.
When the street came to the end,
Wondering what to expect,
what would happen next,
The street reappeared again,
To do the same round.
Not as I thought,
But in what it was yesterday
instead.
When it completed its yesterday’s display
It showed up as two days before,
It went on displaying the past week, passed month and the year.
It did not stopped there,
It reappeared as scenery
Going back none stop
For five more decades
One after another cascade.
As I travel in a time past,
I saw people I knew,
As a young adult
some were friends,
Others close Agnate,
blood related,
Taking a walk,
Some doing errands.
At the very end of my tour,
As if a resting spot for a Viator,
I saw the old sycamore,
Now exists no more,
Where a rebel with his arms,
Tied behind his back,
Frogmarched to clump up,
With a loop,
At the end of a rope,
To burke and break his neck.
To the people I met,
I inquired why they came to the street,
A surprised visit,
After a long lost.
They retorted,
“To seek justice,
For the lives taken short”.
I got startled,
In a daily stride,
A sweven has gripped my ride!
And glide me to the memories
I wish to keep on a lid.
Belay Ambelay