When The Storm Is Over Poem by Tony Adah

When the storm is over
And my wares amongst the ruins lie
I shall pick what is useful to me
Stick them together to make me whole
Of my house I shall make of mud
The storm left and the boughs and leaves
Stumbled on the ground.

I shall be consoled
By my comrades in this disaster
Take a binge on a surviving tavern
And mask my woes
For sleep himself is ignorant
Of a thatch or a tin house
And endures even when man walks
In a voyage of horror out of a dangerous storm.