Sleep
After having walked all day,
The surveyors note reads:
Ridge roads are mirrors
This is a stone age, not the awakening
Lesser birds flee on the day of epoch
Oh, sleep with me in my sharp cradle
Birds of will, sleep, wild type birds.
As I set aside the tables, the chairs
And the bed. Come on, sleep on my bird;
This is a stone age, not the awakening.
About the Poet
Ogana D. Okpah is a Nigerian, an undergraduate of Plant Science and Biotechnology who is obsessed with the Arts. He has been published in Former People journal: a journal of bang and whimpers, Ashvamegh Journal, Provo Canyon Review and a few others.
