Now and then
we dream too deeply of futures,
like vacant houses standing beside
the seaside, we wonder whether we
can profession them,
to make them ours.
We occupy the oceans,
like synergised acrobats, speaking and ignoring,
and indulging on muscles, like
clams decentralised, uncoagulated.
The vineyards of Stellenbosch, unsettled,
sway in the rains, stand strong in the winds,
(harvesting molluscs, year long)
to brew within its branches, sweet citrus.
In the midst of ruination,
pulsating fever won’t last; just
like the fermented thoughts, bickering to brew, except, amidst;
the different shades.
Rishan Singh is a poet and biologist living in Durban, South Africa. His poems and fiction writing have been published. To date, many sub-themes have been discussed in his poems.