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.

Comments