Cruising along
Ethiopian road
A lake town in the distance
A valley below
Craggy precipice plummets
To cracks in the earth
Like the hands made of stone
Hungry people at work
Abodes humble of mud,
Children play in the dirt
In its quilt pattern patches
Tread bare under hoof
The trees bent out of shape
Like the tin atop roof
And alone they dot plots
Of communal religion
Give thanks to your gods
That it’s not my decision