Through the eyes and heart of a poet…

It is with great delight that I share this poem written by my sister!

Every day now, the figs grow softer and fuller; they are taking the rain and the warmth of a hundred summer days and making them over into pleasure; taut green skin and soft pink flesh. Wearing only my nightgown and my work boots, I have come outside at dawn like some post-modern Eve, yearni…

2 thoughts on “Through the eyes and heart of a poet…”

  1. This is tenderly spectacular. It is both softly Eden-like and appeals to my passion for figs. 🙂 Early mornings are plunges into the time-stream; as the sun rises you are everyone who has been or will be. That gives such a fragile and ephemeral feeling to the poem.


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