The Sky, My Eternal Home: Two Poems by Ogheneovo Ohre
1 min read
The Wanderer
(after a stormy night)
I cannot sleep
I cannot dream
I can only drift halfway
into this eerie, wind-lacerating night
the other half I hum
wishing I am heard
In the morning
I wipe dried moss off my mouth
and drink from a nearby pig's trough
gurgling skywards
thereafter I flap husks, cob dusts and moisture off my ruffled plumage
and wing off in search of fruits, insects and companions
hopping from trees with sweet plums to ripen, burst-up pawpaws
down riverbed with memories of washed-up river-relics and seashells
feeling shitty I take a poop midway from the sky
how does that feel
— a blessing for beloved mother earth, souring for her irate earthlings,
I am no wanderer to brag
I am no wanderer to prey
I am just a simple wanderer without a place to lay my fluffy head
but on some less boisterous nights
I do feel like I own the sky – my eternal home
Memory
not every crumb is a sad memory
some strayed happily from their bunch
and await a new fate in silence
a boot may lose its pair
in moments of bolt,
and get stuck, half-buried in mire;
forgotten
empty jars may be cast aside
in a season of drought,
lying on famished riverbeds;
dreary and thirsty
but those nights under
the flicker of a lamppost
your smile in light of our glee,
mending rift in all our tumultuous love valley;
balmy
Author: Ogheneovo Ohre is a writer with a vast creative imagination and is currently working on his new collection of poems. You can find him @OhreOgheneovo on X (formerly Twitter).