A Lost Song Poem by Orike Didi
A Lost Song
I don’t stand out famous
Like Mandela’s cell
Or Soyinka’s cloud head
Or obj’s false faces.
I stand out dumb
Like a sore thumb, a pain
Exiting sudden fragrance across seas
To nostrils that wait.
I don’t wish for a papa’s grey hair
But to sit, rocking on his lair,
Singing to the floating winds
A song lost in the wombs of a memory.
Orike Didi 04: 15 DWP,03/August/2008.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 7:15:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
