Forty Shades

by Oritsegbemi Emmanuel Jakpa

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Forty shades of green,
in the South East,
waste on the meadow’s ridge.

It’s 7.23 pm, sun’s
surging, heat and light
in abundance.

The sky is no-look zone.
Cloud’s white fire
burning the tuff of day.


I shift, dodge and give way,
sun strikes, sharp rays’ shaft
through my window.

The screen glazed by glare,
middle’s an edge, gravity’s centre,
balances everything.

Alphabets, words smooth
as cowries, smooth as stone,
accountant’s prudent eyes,

on Hook Head, barnacles
are joined to rocks
tight as bones on joints.


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