moroni.
the word came to me on a bike ride and i couldn't get it out of my head. i didn't even know what it was! so i looked it up, and several spellings later i am ridding the poem about "...midnight air sinking into my lungs" and "floating under a treetop roof".
silly.
moroni, the capital of grande comore off the coast of mozambique on the other hand, does not mess around.
um hm.
maybe i should write about things that matter, i tell myself.
some of the only information i could find about the island is here. sounds captivating and gruff. almost unfriendly in the most beautiful of ways. i feel limited in my geographical knowledge, which limits my power. because i do have power. we all do. but what am i doing with it?
this morning in moroni i can only imagine what the people there awoke to, a day full of hard work? political strife? heat, stress, exhaustion, fear and not enough food? again? beauty and pain as far as the eye can see?
morose
magnificent
misfortune
merry
muted
moroni.
another place i do not know but want to try.
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