Sunday, June 30, 2013

The beginning of a season & which poems will ensue?

Take for example, figs.  A few (not quite ripe) are available -- sporadically.  Soon, time & harvest will remedy.  Figs aplenty.  Yummy.  The poems change to accommodate the shape of women  & their taste.  

Those delicious not-fresh-fig-season marinated dried figs w/fennel will wait their time.

1 comment:

  1. In due course he snapped back to the roadside
    and realized he had left his wallet
    on the table by the bowl of figs
    the wine glass still half full of sherry

    The question he asked himself was half in anger
    Should I return to get my wallet or send for it
    And what messenger shall I use
    if I can't remember exactly what cafe I was in?

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