THE TIDE BY OLADOKUN SULAIMAN

Tide
Look, look my friend, over there
how those white sand beaches are
turned by the lap of the tide
into wet black gold by night.

See, my friend, nearer here,
how those flock of gulls,
grow fat off of Black gold,
gulp the lives out of smaller shells.

One day, we will not be here to witness this;
the lap of that tide will make
each one of us a tenant of its waves,

and only the rocks will testify
to the cackle, overhead, of those
same gulls. Each one, spreading
the long lies of its wings,
writing history out
across the thin blue sky.