Cows chew cud
Rondavels flourish
This a paradise;
The ocean stirs
And sardines run.
Posted for Midweek Motif at Poets United.
Cows chew cud
Rondavels flourish
This a paradise;
The ocean stirs
And sardines run.
Posted for Midweek Motif at Poets United.
A pinch nestles
in the chamber
air between leaves
A light tamp
another pinch
thumb seals aroma
A little murmur
fingers fumble
the match strikes
Anticipation―
the flame dances
tobacco crackles
Lips pleasured
the senior draws
pipe long as arm
A mouthful taste
before release;
she builds clouds
Another puff, stares
unblinking into the
Indian Ocean
note: The poem is in response to the Midweek Motif at Poets United. Pipe smoking ritual in Xhosa culture is practiced by elders of both sexes. The practice is deemed a way of communicating with the ancestors, and less about addiction to smoking.
Two at the back
One at the front
In full sway;
Spring a season
For graduations.
Note: Poem was inspired by the Midweek Motif, “bicycles, tricycles or unicycles” at Poets United. I’m also linking it to the Tuesday Platform at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.